The Slave's Embrace: A Tale of Slave Leia and Jabba the Hutt
by erikascandle
Summary: Long has there been speculation as to what exactly went on between Princess Leia and Jabba the Hutt while he held her captive as his slave in RETURN OF THE JEDI. At long last, here is the definitive, unexpurgated volume illustrationg what exactly had occurred during her time with him, and with zero cartoonish erotic content. (CW: Nonconsensuality, bestiality, squick.)
1. Chapter 1: In the Arms of the Hutt

Chapter 1: In the Arms of the Hutt

Princess Leia Organa watched, mortified, as her love was taken away from her. Two Gammorean guards pushed his blinded, stumbling form ahead of them. Amused onlookers stepped out of the way, watching as the guards exited the chamber. Leia's heart raced as she watched the white of Han's shirt darken in the low light of the adjoining hallway, and then it vanished beyond the waddling guards' forms.

How foolish, how cocky, had her plan been? Her pride had gotten the better of her decisions—and where were Han and her other friends, now?

#

Over a year before, Han Solo, Leia's lover, an intergalactic smuggler-turned-Rebel, had been captured and brought to an old former partner of his, the loathsome Jabba the Hutt, to whom he owed a large unpaid debt. It had taken quite a lot of time and resources, but she, along with her friend Luke, and Han's friends and fellow Rebels Chewbacca and Lando Calrissian, had been able to track down the Hutt's palace.

Luke was only able to do so much; he had been communicating from the planet Dagobah, where he had been training with his Jedi master Yoda for some time now. And then he had sent in a holographic message, in which he proposed his plan.

First, Lando had gone into the palace in disguise, sending remote transmissions to confirm that Han was indeed there. A week later, C3PO and R2D2, two droids that had proven to be key members of the Rebellion, were dispatched to Jabba's palace with a message from Luke: they would serve him as gifts in exchange for Han's safe return. Lando would independently escape soon after, and all would be well. And if they didn't escape within four days, Luke—who would have at that point returned from Dagobah—would come to the palace and show off his new Jedi skills as he helped them all escape.

Sure enough, the greedy Hutt kept the droids as prisoners and ignored the deal. Luke's plan was quickly proving how insane, how risky, it was—and so Leia had decided to take matters into her own hands.

Disguising herself with the confiscated armor and identity of a captured bounty hunter known as Boushh, Leia took Chewie as a false prisoner to Jabba's palace, trying to land a bogus bargain for the Wookie. Jabba agreed, and with all the pieces in place, that night, she made her move.

Han was exactly as she'd last seen him, incarcerated in a framed carbonite mold, which Jabba had hung on a wall in his private art gallery, a sick trophy. Freeing him, Leia unmasked herself; although Han was temporarily blinded from his carbonite hibernation he was otherwise mercifully, beautifully alive_!_

Then Jabba's horrible laughter had erupted from behind the gallery's closed curtain, and Leia had frozen, completely unsure of what to do. Somehow, the Hutt had learned of her plan, and she and Han were immediately apprehended. It was painfully pathetic to watch Han try to bargain with Jabba. The Hutt what here and all of his offers, and ordered him to be taken away; Leia watched helplessly, knowing that in all likelihood, Han would be brought to a darkened prison cell, where at the very least, he would have time to heal.

#

_He's safe_, she forced herself to remember. _If Jabba wanted him dead, he'd be dead by now. He's just being put in a cell somewhere, until_—

Leia cursed under her breath as a hand grabbed her arm. Tensing, she spun to find a palace guard standing before her—and she had a momentary relief when she recognized the dark brown gaze peering out from behind the tusk-studded helmet. Lando. Perhaps he'd temporarily take her to a holding cell, and maybe later that night or the next, he could come back and—

"_Gyacho_," a deep, gurgling voice broke into Leia's consciousness, a Huttese command: _Wait._ Tensing, she turned fearfully to its speaker.

Jabba, a massive, bloated Hutt, was reclining on the floor in a previously-hidden alcove, waving a chunky arm toward himself. "Bring _her_ to _me_," he said, his huge, orange eyes narrowing. Beside him, his majordomo, a Twi'lek named Bib Fortuna, flashed his sharp teeth in a sinister grin.

Another hand found Leia's other arm, and she turned to see a Gamorrean guard. Lando's hand squeezed her arm, but she kept her gaze averted from his, not wanting to blow his cover as he wordlessly changed gears, maintaining his cover. The guard stepped forward, as did Lando, and together, they began to half-pull, half-lead Leia with them.

As they approached Jabba, she heard a muffled thump somewhere behind her, and Lando's hand released her other arm, only to be replaced by the guard's. He'd pushed Lando away and was now pushing Leia forward himself. Leia tensed, puzzled as to why he was pushing her directly for the Hutt, without any sign of slowing down.

Now was definitely not a time to show any signs of confusion or fear. Leia steeled herself, lifting her arms and struggling briefly with the guard as she was pushed closer and closer to Jabba, until she was within his chubby arm's reach. "We have powerful friends," she stammered; it was all she could think of saying as the front of her desert outfit was shoved directly against the Hutt's huge, round belly. As his foul bodily odor began to assault her nostrils, she uttered another threat, if only to avoid openly flinching. "You're gonna regret this!"

To her disgusted confusion, the guard pushed her even more firmly up against Jabba's bulk, which dimpled around her frame, the slimy flesh producing sickeningly wet squelching sounds. Leia tried to arch her upper body back, but she was shoved closer and closer, until she could feel the bottom slope of his gut pressed against the fronts of her legs.

Far too close for her comfort, she watched as Jabba's mouth opened, his slime-dribbled chins doubling and tripling upon their thick rolls as he wetly grumbled, "I'm sure."

A third hand pressed against Leia's back, and when the guard repositioned one hand between her shoulders, she realized it was Jabba's. Together, they easily shoved her upper body foward again, until her face moved within inches of Jabba's own enormous, slimy one as he opened his lips wider, horribly cooing a foul, filthy-sounding word…until she realized it was her own name. "_Leiaaaaahh…_"

Her resolve cracked and fell apart as she watched his mouth open even wider, his huge tongue emerging with her name, thick pouring out around his tongue as it licked his wide lower lip. Overcome with disgust, she turned her head, squeezed her eyes shut, and gave voice to her repulsion with a loud groan. "Aun-_ughhh…_"

From nearby, she could hear a plaintive, electronic voice, and realized it was C3-PO, the golden protocol droid that Luke had sent in as a bargaining chip for Han. The droid helplessly whimpered, "_Ohhh_, I can't bear to watch," and Leia couldn't help but feel simultaneously annoyed at the droid's selfish response…and embarrassed to be a part of the reason for his disgust.

She listened as Jabba continued to slurp at his lips. Any time she'd previously witnessed the Hutt slobbering had been unwholesome at worst—but at least she had only ever seen the action from a safe, bearable distance. As he was doing it mere inches from her face, with the wet sounds mixing with his grumbles and moans, a miasma of warm, humid _smells _drifting over her features, it was far too disgusting to bear.

The Hutt's pet lizard-monkey hooted and cackled from nearby, and Jabba grumbled thickly, still slobbering. "_Ooaah_," he belched, and Leia was sickened to feel his big belly quake against her body with a heavy chuckle.

_So that's his intent_, she thought to herself. Jabba wanted to make her show a sign of weakness, to undermine her with something that not even _she_ could bear. _We'll see about that_.

Grimacing, she turned her head back to face the Hutt, then opened her eyes—just in time to see his tongue, stretched out in the air before her, curled over and wetly met the left side of her face. Before she could fully react, it swiped across her mouth, slopping a beastly kiss upon her lips.

Leia was almost grateful for the laughter of the sick audience which then rose around her at this, because it almost completely drowned out a second, even more deeply horrified moan that escaped her slime-slathered lips. Cringing, she turned her head, spitting.

Jabba's tongue mercifully retracted with a loud, wet slurp. As the audience continued to laugh and cheer at her humiliation, he began to speak, his voice was suspiciously low. "But in the meantime…" She gasped as she felt his hand press more firmly against the heavy fabric hanging over her lowermost back, and around her, the audience quickly hushed as the Hutt finished, "…I shall _thoroughly_ enjoy the pleasure of your company."

Spitting another invasive taste of Jabba's saliva, Leia tensed and glared at him. His particular choice of words, along with the knowing chuckles that arose around her, made her skin crawl.

"To start, let's get you into something a little more..._appropriate_..."

The sinking sensation in her gut increased tenfold, even as the Gammorean guard mercifully pulled her back from the Hutt, whose greasy flesh stuck to her clothes and weaponry.

"A suggestion," a low, processed voice said. Leia turned to watch Boba Fett, the Empire-allied Mandalorian bounty hunter who'd captured Han, stepping forward from the crowd, his helmeted head nodding at her. "Check her for weapons. She's a resourceful one."

"That she is," Jabba said, and Leia's skin crawled as he licked his lips again, staring at her in a way that made her more uncomfortable than uneasy.

As Fett came over, Leia tried to steel herself, feeling almost dizzy with helplessness. The bounty hunter patted down her arms and legs, checking for any outfit for any concealed weaponry. Finding none, he then began to remove her ammunition belt and jerkin. Off came the spare breathing packs for use in the harsh Tatooine desert air. Convinced that she was clean, Fett handed the weapons to a nearby guard, then nodded to the Hutt.

"Melina!" Jabba bellowed, and a pale-faced, black-haired woman in a form-fitting red jumpsuit came forth and half-bowed before Jabba. "Master," she said in a smoky voice.

"Process her. Bring her back in the morning."

Melina bowed again, then began to walk away, and the guard shoved Leia after her, heading for one of the massive connecting hallways.

Leia threw a final glare back at Jabba, watching as he licked his lips once more, slime dribbling thickly down his chins, Bib Fortuna leaning in beside him, whispering something unintelligible, his gaze fixed on Leia the whole time—and then the guard led Leia around a corner, and the audience chamber vanished from view.

Leia had a bad feeling about this.


	2. Chapter 2: The Harem

Chapter 2: The Harem

Melina and the guard led Leia through a series of dark, dingy corridors, passing curious and amused onlookers until they reached a wide, closed door, which hissed open, revealing a big, colorful room inside.

Leia squinted in the sudden brightness, blinking until its details came into view. Ornate tapestries and chandeliers decorated the walls and ceilings which glowed with recessed lights. And on the floor—

Leia's eyes widened as her fears of her intended fate increased tenfold as she took in the occupants of the chamber—a multitude of scantily-clad women, nearly thirty of them—lounging about on decorated cushions and pillows.

It was a harem.

Melina told the guard to leave, and after the door closed behind him, she matter-of-factly instructed Leia to remove her desert garb. The look on Leia's face must have spoken volumes, for Melina shook her head. "Don't worry. He's a pervert, even by Hutt standards, but he's not _that_ perverse."

"How comforting," Leia muttered.

She felt dry crumbling sensation on her upper lip, and realized sickly that Jabba's saliva had caked upon her comparatively dryskin. She wiped her gloved hand across her mouth, flinching at the pale green flakes that sat on the leather, and flicked them away before reluctantly obliging Melina.

As Leia undressed, she pondered the purpose of this strange affair. If Jabba's intentions were truly not to take advantage of human women—or females of other species, for that matter, as she spotted a few Rodian, Theelin, Askajian, and other varieties of humanoid slaves strutting about the harem—then why all this? Why would Jabba even _own_ a harem?

Leia's lips tightened the more she thought more about the situation at hand: a typical Hutt, the vile gangster no doubt dabbled in the flesh trade, which made Leia hate him all the more…and pity the poor women all around her.

And here she was, being put among their ranks. It only made sense that Jabba sought to humiliate and degrade her, no doubt to befoul her image. A Rebel leader and the orphaned Princess of her home planet of Alderaan, caught in the act of rescuing her loved one, and—

_Han._

Leia pursed her lips as she randomly pictured her love in the warm, crushing embrace of his Wookie friend, but she doubted that he'd been lucky enough to be put in the same prison cell. She shook the lucid image out of her head and continued to undress.

It took Leia a couple of minutes to strip down fully. The desert suit had dual thermal layers that had to be independently unfastened and removed. As it all came off, Melina took it all, folded it, and bunched it under her arm.

"We'll get you cleaned and outfitted in the morning," she said as Leia stood awkwardly in her undergarments. Melina closed her eyes and shook her head, her lips curling up, and Leia paled.

Melina said, "You don't really have any choice in how _much_ you can wear, but I'll let you stay in those for tonight. But tomorrow…" She shrugged matter-of-factly.

Leia swallowed hard. There was no reason she should show her vulnerability now any more then when she was in Jabba's presence; yet she felt some kind of relief, even comfort, with Melina. She had an instinctive feeling that this woman, along with the slumbering or half-awake women around her, posed no threat to her, not while she was there among them. They probably weren't even in here by choice, she realized; the Hutts were known for their collecting of everything from wealth, treasures, and art to their shameless use of people. No, the women here—Melina included—were _slaves_.

"I understand," Leia muttered. And for good measure, "Thank you."

Melina pursed her lips, then nodded, as if unused to such a response, then showed Leia to an unoccupied nest of cushions and blankets.

#

The next morning, after a restless sleep, Leia had almost convinced herself that it had all been some awful dream—until she sat up and saw her bare legs, and remembered the events of the night before. She pulled herself upright and drew her legs closely to her chest, hugging her arms around her shins.

Around her, the slaves were waking up and walking sleepily about, getting ready for…whatever sick purpose they were kept. Some disappeared and reappeared through a door on the far side; Leia hoped it was a washroom.

She rose and walked toward the door, trying her best to ignore a few puzzled and amused onlookers, and moving through the door, she was relieved to see a row of stalls.

_Thank the Force for privacy_, she thought.

#

Over the next hour, Leia sat around and waited for Melina to reappear. She avoided meeting the occasional curious, even judging, looks from slaves around the room. A scarlet-haired woman, in particular, stared intensely at her a few times, but never spoke to her. As the morning stretched on, Leia realized that Melina was the only person in the palace that she would feel comfortable talking to, and even there, she questioned how much she actually _trusted _her.

Leia's bare stomach began to grumble, and she clasped her hands over it. She was quite hungry; although she didn't see any food in the harem, she doubted that the slaves were starving. She'd not eaten anything since the afternoon before, after she'd arrived in the palace and had been led, still in disguise, to her private chamber.

She sighed as she imagined what had happened to her belongings. They'd probably been confiscated in the wake of her capture; besides her clothes and helmet, a power pike, and a few remaining travel morsels, there was nothing of any real value. Still, the thought the brought bitter taste of powerlessness, and her hands balled into fists.

_Han, I _will_ save you, somehow._

Just then, Melina finally appeared, Leia rose and faced her, silently inquiring.

"Let's get you ready," Melina said. "Master Jabba is waiting for you."

Even in the warm air of the harem, Leia shivered.

#

"And...that should do it," Melina said, slipping a small gold fastener over the end of Leia's long hair, which she'd spent the past few minutes braiding into a tight, thick rope. She took Leia's biceps and guided her to turn in a small circle, and Leia gasped.

She had been more than a little put off by the skimpy scraps that Melina had brought in for her. Surely, Leia had thought, there was more to her "appropriate" change of clothing than the miniscule pieces suggested. Yet she held her tongue, as well as her judgment, until Melina was finished…yet now, seeing it in its final presentation in the mirror...

Beneath her gold-clasped hair, hooped, spike-ended earrings had been put through the holes in her ears. After being cleaned up in a most degrading, if mercifully brief, time in the washroom with Melina, a subtle amount of makeup that cast sky-blue shadows above her eyelids, soft blushes on her cheeks, and a dark red lipstick on her thin lips. But below—

"Lower your arms," Melina said, and only then did Leia realize she had pressed them across her abdomen. "I know you're not used to this, but you will be, sooner than you think." She shrugged with a snicker. "You'll _have_ to, honestly."

Leia took a deep breath, then timidly obeyed. Her entire abdomen—really, most of her entire _body_—was left exposed by the sickeningly meager design of her outfit. Two ornately-shaped gold frame cups, lined with soft linen, loosely hung around the fronts of her breasts. They were held in place by thin strings that formed an X across her back, exposing far too much cleavage than she would ever have presented. A gold, serpent-coil armlet had been slipped up around her left bicep until it rested beneath her armpit, and a long, wide, heavily-etched gold bracelet clung to her right wrist. Two decorated gold plates hung over her pelvis and, she knew, her upper backside, held together with gold, eye-shaped bands that clasped over her upper hips. From these plates hung twin fringes of purple Lashka silk, leaving both of her legs entirely exposed but for the low boots on her feet. She could feel the discomforting caress of cool air that touched everything beneath her skirts, and for the hundredth time that morning, she wanted to ask Melina if she were allowed to wear undergarments, but she already knew the answer. This outfit was designed with only one purpose—to leave her body exposed, to make her look like...like...

_Like a slave_, she thought bitterly.

She then realized that Melina was saying something; she blinked and turned to the other woman, inquiring with her eyes.

"I asked if you need to visit the refresher before I bring you back to Jabba."

Leia didn't answer at first; she could hardly process any thought at all. But when she pondered her body's needs, she swallowed hard and nodded.

As Melina led the way to the refreshers, Leia closed her eyes, feeling more scared than she had in a long, long time.

_Luke_, she thought, hoping he could somehow hear her, _please, _please_ come soon._


	3. Chapter 3: Leashed

Chapter 3: Leashed

Approaching the harem's chamber door, Leia stopped, and Melina did the same, turning to her inquisitively.

"Am I coming back here?"

Melina cocked her head and shrugged. "That depends on when he's finished with you."

Leia's pulse thickened into slow-moving mud in her veins, and she swallowed nervously. "'Finished?'"

"When he's decided what he wants to do with you, depending on how you act."

Leia bristled at this. "So I get to come back here for good behavior?" she said sourly.

Melina frowned and shrugged. "Well…I don't know if you were here for it or not, but he had another slave on his throne, right up until yesterday morning."

Leia's lips worked soundlessly before she spoke. "And what happened to her?"

"She got too feisty, so he had her killed."

Leia felt her skin break out in bumps, and she crossed her arms over her exposed midriff.

"But you seem smart. Once he knows a new slave _won't_ do something like that, he usually lets them wander freely. Within reason."

"Comforting." She thought of Luke's plan, of the time it would take him to arrive. She felt like she'd already been in the palace for several days, even though she'd been here less than one—and Luke still wouldn't show up for another three. "And…how long will it take him to make that decision?"

Melina shrugged again, her lips narrowing to speak, but then the chamber door opened, and they turned to see Bib Fortuna walking in, grinning toothily as he saw Leia. His orange gaze traveled down her body, up again, and then down again. She crossed her arms over her abdomen, and he looked back up at her face, grinning wider. "_I_ shall bring her to him," he purred, making her skin crawl.

Leia glanced back at Melina, who nodded.

She turned slowly back to Bib, and now noticed two Gammorean guards standing in the hall behind him, their flat snouts and yellow tusks glistening wetly in the light from the harem.

Swallowing hard, Leia gingerly stepped forward. Much to her surprise, the Twi'lek majordomo turned and let her pass, and although Leia kept her arms pressed over her stomach, she was relieved to continue feeling nothing more than his gaze upon her half-naked body.

Her boots produced soft crunches and dull thumps as they left the soft carpet of the harem and fell upon the grime and grit of the stone hallway outside. The guards lumbered about to face the other direction as the rustle of Bib's robe filled the air behind her, and the harem door slid shut behind her, its metal interlocking with stone with an echoing crack that sounded like eternity.

The air in the long, dark hallway was starkly cool, compared to the comfortable warmth of the harem. She felt it creep into her bones as she was led down an adjoining passage. When she spotted a huge, oozing wetworm clinging to a nearby wall, she cringed. Trying to distract herself with more logical thoughts, she pondered how humid most of the place was, likely to keep it habitable and temperate for Jabba and other moisture-dependent tenants.

After a few minutes, she turned back to find Bib walking within arms' reach of her. For a moment, she debated subduing him, perhaps using him as some kind of hostage while she made the guards drop their weapons—but she had to remind herself that such a bold move would only get her into trouble—and now, more than ever.

Instead, another ploy came to mind.

"I wasn't exaggerating, yesterday," she whispered over her shoulder. When he didn't say anything, she added, "I _do_ have powerful friends."

"And where _are_ they, now?" She could hear the grin in his voice.

Leia took a heavy breath and said, more firmly, "That's not what I mean. They have money. _They can pay you_—"

"Master Jabba pays me quite well. I have no need for your pathetic Rebel credits. Walk."

Leia pursed her lips, tempted to throw out figures, but she ultimately held her tongue, knowing full well that Bib may take that as a challenge to elaborate on what _other_ forms of payment Jabba bequeathed upon his cronies. She kept walking for what felt like eternity.

#

"_Oooaaahh_..." Jabba moaned thickly as the guards led Leia back into the audience chamber.

The Hutt was reclining upon his massive stone throne, a hookah set up for his convenience in the armrest beside him. Hushed whispers, moans, gasps, and gossip arose all around her, and Leia could feel many gazes crawling over the exposed areas of her body. Her cheeks burning, she turned her gaze down to the floor beneath her frontal skirt and boots.

_Run_, she thought. _Just run, grab the nearest weapon, and fight your way out. _But she knew she could do no such thing. Han, Chewie, and the droids were all still being held captive; and Lando, despite his disguise, was every bit a prisoner here as the rest of them. No, she couldn't go anywhere—not unless, not _until_, Luke or some other form of help were to show up.

Leia gasped as several cool, long-nailed fingers slipped around her bare upper biceps, and she shivered. Bib chuckled, his breath by her ear making her shiver again as he whispered into it, "You don't make this difficult, and _he_ won't." He seized her other shoulder—and Leia didn't respond nor resist as he pushed her inexorably towards the throne.

"Excellent," Jabba hooted, licking his lips, and Leia's too-too-exposed skin crawled. "My compliments to Miss Melina…"

The intrigued onlookers whispered and chuckled around her, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

"_Leia Organa_, the great Rebel leader..."

Her shame abruptly disappeared, and she turned glaring eyes up at him. He licked his lips, fresh slime dribbling down his chins; foul though the beast was, she now faced him with spite more than disgust.

"And a _Princess_, Master!" Bib taunted, and Leia set her jaw, her fists balling at her sides. "The _Princess_ of fallen Alderaan."

"_Princess_ Leia…" Jabba chuckled, his eyes narrowing. He raised his chunky arms and bellowed, his voice an echoing roar in the chamber. "Behold, the great _Princess_ Leia! _Ho-ho-ho-ho-hooo…_" As the Hutt burst out laughing, Bib and several onlookers joined in on the cruel humor.

Leia, feeling herself tremble with rage, pursed her lips against the spiteful responses she could feel welling up inside her. If last night was any indication, she knew, anything she said could and would be used against her.

"Bring the _Princess_ to me," Jabba said, beckoning a chunky arm toward himself.

Leia tensed, remembering what had happened the last time he'd made such a command—how disgusted she had felt, even when she'd been wearing a full suit of clothing. She couldn't—she _refused_ to—imagine what she would feel, now…

Remembering Bib's words, she worked hard to avoid struggling with the majordomo as he pushed her to the throne. He half-instructed, half-pushed her up onto it, and she became even more uncomfortably aware of how much of her skin was on display as she lifted her bare right leg up onto the throne. She heaved herself up on top of the throne, rising and straightening before the Hutt, glaring at him as his gaze traveled over her body before lifting to meet hers. She gave him the coldest, most defiant glare she could muster as Bib climbed up beside her with a grunt.

Leia suppressed a flinch as the _smell_ of the Hutt hit her nostrils. Perhaps she hadn't fully realized how rank he was last night, but now, the sickly-sweet stench of his unclean, slimy flesh was overwhelming.

Then Bib grabbed her upper arms once again and shoved her forward, and what little resolve and self-control she had left inside of her shattered.

She stifled a groan of disgusted anticipation as she felt moist warmth in the air before her exposed belly. She planted her feet on the throne, her boots grinding into the flattened animal skins that covered it, her half-naked body twisting and writhing as Bib shoved her closer and closer to Jabba.

_Stay focused,_ she urged herself, _and be strong!_ Despite her capture, she had the advantage of being kept alive. Although Han and Chewie were imprisoned, they would stay alive and as well as could be—as long as Jabba's attention was kept on _her_.

_And no matter what disgusting plans Jabba had in store for her, she reminded herself of what Melina had said—that even h_e, a pervert among Hutts, had certain limitations on what he may actually do to her, no matter how much enjoyment he would get from her captivity.

_Alright, Jabba_, she thought, biting her lower lip. _Do your worst_. She took a deep breath and forced herself to remain as calm as she could possibly be…as her half-naked body was shoved into Jabba's slimy, waiting arms.

She closed her eyes and uttered a shaky whimper from between her clenched teeth as the exposed flesh of her stomach met Jabba's lumpy, squishy, greasy skin. She couldn't help but feel just how _naked_ she really was; it was impossible to do so as she was shoved closer and closer against the Hutt, his warm, greasy flesh seeming to fluidly _spread_ across her belly and thihs, the more they made contact, squelching like so much foul, noisy mud as she was pushed—as she _sank—_into its thick mass.

She could feel a heavy cry building in her throat, but she pursed her lips, muffling it to a whimpered "_HnnnnNNNGHH—!"_

_NO__!_

She willed herself into silence. She would _not_ give in to disgust and fear! That was clearly what Jabba wanted. She was _determined_ to not give him the satisfaction that he sought, no matter what he did to her.

Jabba's his huge head shifted up and forward, the multitude of gelatinous rolls massed beneath his chin squashing and spreading across Leia's midriff. She felt warm flesh surround her as his thick, flabby arm reached around her exposed side and back. Fat fingers spread over her skin as he pressed his hand between her shoulder blades, and he pulled her _even closer_, her scantily-clad chest sinking into his flesh with such ease that for a wildly claustrophobic moment, she thought she may be absorbed into his bulk entirely.

She uttered another faint whimper through her sealed lips, her nostrils flaring with frantic breaths—and oh Force_, the smell!_ She parted her lips enough so that she could breathe through her mouth so she didn't have to inhale any more of the Hutt's rank odors—and knowing such a choice would invite her to once again cry aloud in her repulsion, she had a fleeting, maniacal urge to giggle at the revolting despair of her situation.

Then Bib released her arms, and Leia began to raise her hands, half-poising them in a physical debate to somehow try to push herself away—but she was too late, for the gold frames of her top pressed back upon her flesh with the surface they had met…and then a soft, greasy roll of blubber met the exposed skin of her mid-chest.

"_Aungh_…" Leia panted as she felt Jabba's other hand slide onto her lower left. His thick fingers eased onto the curve of her hip, and he began to pull her lower body closer.

Leia gasped at this, and flung her hands to the front of his belly to maintain what little distance from him that she had left, but it was a useless attempt. Her hands simply sank into dimples in the slick, greasy _bulk_. She plucked her hands away again, balling her fists pathetically at her sides and experiencing a full-body shudder as the Hutt inexorably pulled her lower body deeper into the flesh of his belly.

In a final, frantic attempt to escape, Leia looked down, biting her lower lip as she shifted her legs beneath her, pushing her right knee into the Hutt's belly as she moved her left leg back. If she could just brace herself, she may be able to push herself away—

But Jabba knew precisely what she was doing, and his hand slid past her hip, onto her lower back, a fat finger pressing to her upper backside as he spread his hand wide and pushed, _shoving_ her pelvis and her left leg's inner thigh against his bulk.

"_Mmmhhh…_" the Hutt purred thickly, and she threw him a fiery glare—which died just as suddenly as it came as the Hutt began to open his mouth. "_Leiaaaahhghhhlllllllh_..." Jabba uttered, his huge tongue slopping out of his mouth, spilling thick, green saliva down over his chins as it stretching and quivering towards Leia's face, dripping thick gobs of foul slime upon her heaving chest…

_That_ did it.

Leia allowed herself a loud, raw vocal reproach, turning her head to give it voice just as the Hutt's dripping tongue landed the side of her jaw: "_Aunghhh__!_"

His lumpy tongue was slick with the warm corruption that oozed from its every inch, slipping and slopping as it smeared his foul saliva up her cheek, strings of corruption stretching and breaking between her skin and his tongue as it lifted away.

_Oh Force, I can't do this__!_ Leia thought. She took another breath, feeling her scantily-clad chest heaving into his squishy bulk as she did, and she moaned again, louder. "AUGHHH!"

The slimy sounds of his dribbling maw were a horrifying cacophony in her ears, and the rank odors welling out from his gullet were a noisome horror on her nostrils. Leia groaned and whimpered and grimaced loudly, helplessly turning her head back and forth, and only stopped when the wet sounds before her ended.

Leia heard Jabba slurping his wet lips, chortling thickly at her disgust—or, she was even more horrified to imagine, perhaps _savoring her taste_.

She could feel every quake and jiggle of his flesh against her half-naked body, and allowed herself another loud groan as Jabba slop-kissed her again. "Proceed," he grumbled.

She had been so deeply focused upon her struggle that she'd barely heard the metallic jangling sounds until they grew loud beside her. She helplessly looked to her left, then down, and saw two Jawas following along the age-stained and bulk-flattened animal hides that covered the throne beside Jabba's tail, bringing a long, thin, coiled chain towards her. They stopped, and held out to Bib, whose taloned fingers carefully, even _daintily_, plucked something out from the mass of links and slowly lifted it.

_So this is it_, Leia thought as Bib raised the metal object, holding it open in both hands, revealing more and more the sheer length of the chain trailing behind it. Leia closed her eyes as the cold metal brushed her lower jaw and kissed her neck, and Bib's wrists rose on either side of Leia's face as he pushed the two halves of the slave-collar around her neck, their ends meeting with metallic click that sounded like hopeless eternity.

"_Princess Leia_…_" _Jabba belched, drawing out her name into a sickening gurgle, an undertone of cruel humor in his voice. "_Princess_ Leia, _enslaved_." He licked her face again, making her groan. "_My_ slave…" he chuckled, flabs jiggling again.

"_Slave_ Leia!" Bib snickered.

Jabba laughed, his thick flesh squishing and jiggling against Leia's stomach. "_Leia khankee_…_" _he echoed._ Slave Leia_.

Leia closed her eyes as his tongue emerged and stretched toward her face once again.

#

When Jabba finally released her, she was quick to step away—but the Hutt was quicker to grab a length of the chain that hung within reach of his chunky left arm. He held the chain firmly, stopping her from going anywhere as the Jawas draped most of its slack over the gigantic base of his tail.

Leia watched fearfully, her face wrinkled into a grimace of repulsion, as the Jawas carried the chain's end somewhere behind the throne. There came a hiss and a flash of light, and a faint, metallic burning smell. The Jawas reappeared, and Leia balked when she saw what one of them was holding: a smelting gun.

They had _welded_ the end of the chain to the throne.

The Hutt ushered Bib and the Jawas off of his throne, and requested some music. It was only then that Leia noticed the absence of his pet lizard-monkey; perhaps it was elsewhere in the palace. Not that she'd miss the obnoxious creature; she only fleetingly realized that she was so intently pondering this out of a desperate ignorance of the horror she had been subjected to.

Nearby, the band began to play a melodic, upbeat tune. And then Jabba turned his big, orange eyes to her. "Dance."

Leia froze. What a few dances she knew were only appropriate to official gatherings, and could only be performed with another bipedal being. What did he possibly think she could—

"Move your body," Jabba said, lifting his chain-wielding hand to poke a fat finger uncomfortably at her pelvis. "Dance for me, _Leia khankee_."

Hearing herself addressed in such a degrading, demoralizing term was, in retrospect, something of a blessing, because it reinvigorated and old and powerful emotion: anger. Embarrassment, repulsion, fear—all vanished as deep rage took root, and Leia straightened before him, lifting her head and glaring back at him in silent defiance.

She knew better than to tempt him to hurt her, or any of her friends—but, she supposed, that suddenly acting obedient could be viewed as suspicious. She had to make her struggle seem genuine. Depending on how long she stayed here, she would have to act like she was going through whatever reactions Jabba would likely expect of her, of phases of defiance, reluctance, defeat, and ultimately, submission.

Jabba watched her silent protest for a long moment, then his huge head rocked in a half-formed nod. "I expected as much," he said, and lifting his arm, he gave a quick, hard _yank_ on the chain—so hard, in fact, that it caught her quite off-guard. She could never have anticipated the bulky Hutt to be so strong, and was thrown forward out of her balance, nearly falling to her knees before she managed to catch herself.

She straightened before him, and watched as he switched the chain to his other hand, higher up along its length, and pulled slowly, steadily back. Her hands darted up to grab the chain between his hand and her neck, and she braced her feet to stand her ground—but it was all too late, and she was too close to him for it to matter. He drew her back towards himself, pressing his right hand to her lower waist and pulling her half-naked body up into his slimy bulk once again. As he slipped his hand further around her, until his arm was fully around her lower abdomen, pinning her against him. The slackened chain swung and jangled beside her legs, the links making cold metal kisses upon the bare skin of her left thigh as his right hand, holding the chain, followed suit, his long, fat fingers once again grabbing her hip to ream her pelvis closer.

"_Leia khankee_," Jabba purred, his breath a rank and hot cloud upon her features, his multitude of thick, jiggling chins rubbing repulsively against her chest with each movement of his enormous jaw.

"_This_," he said, and his hand gripped her hip more firmly, making her pelvis shove more firmly into his belly, "is my slave's embrace. It shows respect. You will take this position when I summon you."

Leia exhaled a disgusted breath through her nostrils as she glared at Jabba. _Respect?_ she wanted to spit back in his face, but she knew better than to try and challenge him now. This position, this..."slave's embrace," clearly only served as nothing more than a demoralizing and humiliating posture to sexually objectify her. She resented Jabba for it—but, she reasoned, if it helped her stay alive until—

Jabba pushed her lower body closer still. "Understand?"

Leia set her jaw, remaining silent. She didn't want to put up a struggle, but she knew that suddenly acting obedient may only arouse suspicion—which may cause even worse problems for her. She had to play this just right—make him think she was playing right into his game.

Showing only her repulsion, she glared up at him and, after a moment, nodded slowly, the upper length of her chain jingling from the movement.

Jabba's fat arm constricted tightly around Leia's lower body, making her gasp. "_Do you understand, _khankee?"

"_Yes_," Leia snapped. "I under—"

"Yes, _Master_," a gravelly voice interrupted. Leia turned her head, feeling links of the chain slide coldly along the expanse of exposed flesh along her left side. Bib Fortuna stood directly beside them on the edge of the throne, grinning his wicked, fanged teeth. He narrowed his red eyes and added, "You call him Master Jabba, Slave Leia."

Several onlookers chuckled, and Leia blushed, struggling to avoid thinking about what they must be seeing, how pathetic she must look like this. Instead, she focused her horror and anger at the fact that Jabba wanted her to call him Master. _You're going to be disappointed, then_, she thought bitterly.

Fortunately, Jabba seemed to be finished with the argument. She turned back to find him licking his lips, and he gave her lower body another squeeze, then pried his arms from her waist.

Leia couldn't pull away fast enough—but just as she began to turn, he gave another tug on the chain, and she threw fire at him with her eyes.

"_Da eitha__,"_ he commanded, pointing a fat finger down at his belly. _Come here._

Leia glared at Jabba for a long moment, took a deep breath. _He's testing me_, she thought bitterly. _Training me like a pet._

Jabba yanked the chain again, harder this time, making Leia rock forward. "_Da eitha, khankee_," he repeated, more curtly.

Taking a frustrated breath, she obliged, only so that she could get this sick "show of respect" over with. She stepped forward, cringing as she forced herself slowly back into Jabba's arms—but as soon as the middle of her exposed stomach touched his moist, squishy flesh, she faltered and went still.

_Just get it over with_, she reasoned with herself. After all, she'd had more than her share of being forced to come in contact with his body already; what did it really matter now if she were to—

"_Mmmh_…" the Hutt growled, and Leia gasped as both of his hands suddenly grabbed her hips. His bloated fingers and the cold links of the chain uncomfortably touched the exposed areas of her backside where the Lashka silk failed to cover, and he _pulled__, shoving her pelvis back into the dimple of his belly_. "Ungh!" she whimpered as his right hand pulled away. She looked down and watched as his arm lifted up, and then it pressed against the middle of her shoulders, and he pushed her upper body closer, her chest shoving into the foul, slime-dribbled rolls beneath his drooling chins, until she was practically laying upon him.

"_Close_, girl," he grumbled, his rank breath in her face. "Like this."

Low chuckles and whispers came from nearby, and Leia turned her gaze in the opposite direction, blushing.

"Now do it again." Jabba's hands loosened and slid off her hips, and she twisted her lower body away from his greasy flesh with another sickeningly wet sticky sound.

She placed a booted foot down before the Hutt's belly, then paused, balling her fists at her sides. Jabba licked his lips and rumbled deeply, and ignoring all her instincts, Leia forced herself forward, pushing her stomach back against the Hutt's bulk. She felt the brush of his hand against her hip, and setting her jaw, she forced her lower body closer, then leaned forward until the front of her chest touched his flabby rolls..

Jabba chuckled, his wobbling belly rocking her upon him. "Better. Again, _khankee_."

Her face burning, her jaw so tightly clenched she felt her teeth would break, Leia once again stepped back from the Hutt, then moved forward again and rammed her body up against his with a repulsive _smack_, her chain rattling and jingling noisily where it clattered against her gold top. She took a quick breath, then forced her upper torso forward until the front of her chest pushed into his chins. For good measure, she moved her left leg aside and curled her hips forward and up, pushing the front of her pelvis with firm, vulgar emphasis against the thick, soft flesh of his enormous lower body.

She felt _so_ disgusted—so disgust_ing_—to perform this act, this loathsome, desired position, this _slave's embrace__, but hopefully, now she had proven herself._

_"Satisfied?" she muttered, and then as an afterthought, "__Master__?"_

Jabba's eyes narrowed, and he growled faintly.

_Again?_ Leia thought resentfully, and didn't try to hide her angry sigh as she stepped back, spread her feet a little wider, and assumed his filthy slave's embrace once again…and the Hutt began to laugh.

"_HO-Ho-ho-ho-ho_…" Leia turned her head against the rank breath that met her face as his flabby rolls and belly jiggled and quaked against her body, cringing at the feeling of the Hutt's flesh jiggling horribly against seemingly every square inch of the front of her half-naked body. "_Hah-_hah-hah-hah-_hyeaaiiih_…"_ Still laughing, he licked her face, then wetly said, _"Well done, _Leia khankee_, but I did not tell you to do it that time!"

The audience burst out laughing, and Leia groaned through her slimy lips, turning away and blushing hotly. Jabba laughed again, louder, his big belly quaking and wobbling against her half-naked lower body, making her whole body jiggle and rock where she stood—where _she voluntarily stood_—with her spread legs and pelvis rammed up against his belly.

As the laughter continued, Leia stepped back, lowering her gaze to the throne's cushions and animal skins. _Yeah, yeah_, she thought. _Enjoy your laugh_. She began to turn to sit back down—

The chain snapped taut again with a hard _yank_, stopping her with a choked cry, and Jabba bellowed, "_Again__!_"

#

When the last round of humiliation was finished, Jabba surprisingly released Leia's chain, its upper length dropping noisily down the center of her top's gold frames, the metal links cold where they touched the exposed flesh of her mid-chest. "You may sit," he said.

She pushed herself upright and pulled back from him, pursing her lips against the grimace they yearned to form as his clammy skin _peeled_ away from her belly. She moved slowly, waiting for him to have an abrupt—and fully intentional—change of mind; but surprisingly enough, he made no move upon her as she stepped slowly back on the throne.

She turned around, looking for a spot along the front edge, as far from him as the chain would allow; as she lowered herself, she heard another metallic jangle, and tensing, she glared back at him as he gathered up more of the chain from his tail.

"Not that far," he said, and pointed to the base of his belly.

Leia narrowed her eyes. _Of course_, she thought. He wanted her nearby; privacy and personal space meant nothing to him; clearly, he was exhibiting more of his demoralizing control.

She stepped gingerly closer, and began to lower herself to the cushions before him, when the chain jingled again. Tensing, she turned to him, and he pointed straight down at the pillows and cushions piled at his belly. He wanted her to sit _directly_ in front of him.

Taking a deep breath, Leia resentfully forced herself closer. Although the entire audience had no doubt by now gotten their share of glimpses of her scantily-clad backside, she felt even more sheepish to have it on display to Jabba. Carefully pressing her hands to the fabric and keeping it in place, she lowered herself to the cushions, listening to the soft jingle of metal as her chain links shifted and rang beside her ear—

_Yank!_

"_Hungh— _Ugck!" Leia grunted.

The flare of pain upon her throat was so sudden, and her instinctive response to grab the collar and relieve the pain, that she didn't even realize she had been tugged backwards, her torso tipping back until her bare shoulders landed against Jabba's corpulent belly with a disgustingly loud, fleshly clap. Coughing, her body wobbled from the gelatinous impact—and she tensed when she saw Jabba's hand lowering beside her face.

"Good," he said, his bulk vibrating with the deep rumble of his voice. Leia tensed as she watched his hand drop toward her chest—but mercifully, his fat fingertips touched the skin of her shoulder and began to rub it. "You stay right there."

She tore her gaze from a couple of chuckling onlookers and blushed, then closed her eyes.

Jabba's hand lifted from her shoulder, and after a moment, she risked a glance up at him. He switched hands on the chain as he reached for his hookah, which he lifted to his huge mouth for a heavy puff.

She took a heavy breath, opened her eyes—and uttered a startled grunt at what she saw in the middle of the chamber.

Four slaves had entered; she recognized at least two of them from the harem. They were dancing to the music, twisting and writhing their bodies in shameless exploit, all the more demeaningly emphasized by their skimpy outfits. It was deeply repulsive to watch, and the other movements were so graceful, so hypnotic, she couldn't help herself.

Her eyes fixed on a red-haired human slave, who moved with particularly languid motions. The woman's thin, twisting body was wrapped in silks and shawls the light blue of the Tattoine sky, so translucent that it left little to the imagination. As her hips gyrated in a most luridly suggestive motion, Leia couldn't stop her gaze from traveling up the dancer's body. And the look on the woman's face—such calm, such comfort...such _pride_.

"Learn what you can, _Leia khankee_," Jabba said behind her.

_Luke_, she thought as Jabba's hand dropped to her bare shoulder and rubbed slowly around in an awkward, discomforting caress, _I don't know how much longer I can do this_.


	4. Chapter 4: The Slave's Embrace

Chapter 4: The Slave's Embrace

After the song ended, the dancers cleared the floor, and a few minutes later, a small droid carted in a small, portable refresher, much like ones used at public events. Leia frowned as she watched its approach, for normally refreshers of this sort were housed in tall, narrow booths, whereas this merely sat atop a small, wheeled tank.

"For you," Jabba said, dropping the length of chain beside her, and Leia realized exactly what was going on. She felt deep rage form inside her even before a few onlookers began to chuckle and point at her.

After a momentary debate of when the hell else she would be able—be given a _chance_—to relieve herself, she reluctantly slid off the throne and walked over to it, balling her fists at her sides as she glanced around at her watching, amused audience.

_Oh, Force_, she thought, her fury rising as she crouched over it and pulled aside her rear skirt. As the chuckles and whispers rose around her, she set her jaw and tried her hardest to focus on her relief, but it took her a couple of excruciating minutes, and by the time she began, the audience was laughing heartily at her.

#

Later that morning, Jabba received a holographic conference from two of his dealers, who were finalizing a drug transaction elsewhere on Tatooine.

Leia found herself averting her gaze as C3-PO was summoned by his side to interpret, but the droid thankfully didn't comment on her captivity, nor her state of undress. Regardless, she made a mental note to wipe his memory clean when they finally got out of this mess.

_And we _will, Leia promised herself, even as Jabba gave a gagging yank on her chain.

She tensed and straightened upright, bracing herself for a second tug—but none came. Jabba, in the middle of speaking to the dealers, did not do or say anything else. Sighing, Leia glanced at the hologram, but was uncertain if the dealer were paying attention or not. When nothing else happened again for a few minutes, she began to relax, thinking Jabba must have gestured in such a way that—

"They _can't _wait!" Jabba yelled at the hologram, and Leia's chain snapped taut with a mighty _yank_. She grunted and rocked back, flinging an arm behind her to the throne's surface to catch herself before she fell back upon his belly again.

As the Hutt snarled impatiently at the hologram, he slackened the chain, and Leia pushed herself upright again, then eased her sitting position a little closer to him, moving slowly so that he wouldn't notice, but he seemed too involved in the deal to pay more attention to her. She hoped that by moving closer, the slackened chain would prevent him from accidentally choking her again.

_No doubt what he wants_, she thought bitterly.

Indeed, several more times during the conference, Jabba gave brief tugs on the chain, making Leia tense—but fortunately, she'd chosen well, for the chain was more noisy than it was functional. She felt relief, but also tension, for she didn't know how long this break would last.

A few minutes later, the hologram vanished, the deal done. Leia tensed even before Jabba gave another tug on the chain, rocked back, gagging and nearly falling onto his belly.

"Don't stray far, my pretty," Jabba purred with sickening affection above her, and Leia's skin crawled, as much from his words as from the clammy touch of his big hand as it slid onto her shoulder. As his fat fingertips brushed over her upper chest, she let out a heavy, annoyed sigh, rolling her eyes to gaze up at the ceiling.

#

A few minutes later, Jabba bellowed loudly, "_Porcellus!_" A moment later, a dark-skinned man approached the throne and bowed.

"_Koose_ _goonu nai_," Jabba belched. _Bring me food_.

The man bowed and disappeared from view.

Then came a quick, hard tug on Leia's chain. "_Da eitha, khankee_."

Leia let loose an annoyed breath, glaring about the audience chamber. Nobody met her gaze, nor even seemed to be paying attention—which was a small comfort as she rose to her feet, turned, and reluctantly shoved her body into the slave's embrace.

Jabba pressed his free hand to her lower back and pushed, and Leia resentfully curled her hips forward, pushing her pelvis into his gut.

Jabba's slimy chins rubbed against her chest as he asked, "Hungry, my pet?"

She hadn't eaten since after she'd first entered the palace, in the privacy of the private quarters bequeathed to the bounty hunter that she'd posed as. There, she'd only nibbled on a few dry nutrient wafers that she'd managed to stow away, to keep her energy levels up for the escape attempt that night.

_And look how well _that_ turned out, _she thought sourly.

Her stomach grumbled faintly, and she began to realize she was feeling light-headed. She couldn't deny herself—she was practically starving. If there was any chance of Luke's imminent arrival to be justified, she needed to do a lot more than play along as a slave for the Hutt in order to stay alive.

Swallowing hard, Leia looked up into Jabba's eyes...and nodded slightly, the chain jingling softly beneath her jaw.

Jabba's eyes narrowed, and he growled, his belly vibrating against hers.

She muttered through clenched teeth, "Yes, _Master_."

Without warning, Jabba licked her face. Leia yelped and turned her head, flinching. "Food is coming," he said, and Leia gasped as his free hand pressed to the very bottom of her lower back, his fat fingers pressing the top of the gold of her rear skirt plate into the upper curve of her backside. "But in the meantime…" He opened his huge maw again, and delivered another long, disgusting slurp across her lower face. She angled her head up and back, breathing through her nose, but Jabba only took her exposed neck as an offering, of which he partook with slovenly gusto.

"_Huaaghhhlhh…_" he gurgle-moaned as the thick, wet, probing end of his questing tongue slid down and along the base of her neck, thick trails of slime dribbling down onto her cleavage.

Instinctively, she curled her lower body away from where his hand touched her lower back, but this only pushed her pelvis even more firmly into the dimple of his belly-fat. His hand followed suit, trapping her lower body in place. He heaved his heaped bulk forward, and Leia craned her neck and upper body back as far as she could—and then felt his other hand slide onto her hip, his fat fingertips sliding onto her upper backside.

_Not a pervert, not a pervert_, she prayed, her breath becoming quick and labored with building discomfort to the feeling of his dribbling tongue as it slopped down her upper chest, moving far too quickly, far too _intently_, downward, until its tip began to probe the softer flesh of her breasts.

Leia rocked her head back and moaned up at the ceiling. "_Aunngh—_" Her cry was cut short with a gasp. Jabba's hand had slid farther down her backside, his fingers wrapping around its curves, and she uttered a squeal, so high-pitched that she thought for a moment the sound was coming from somewhere else.

Jabba's tongue retracted into his mouth and quickly re-emerged, spilling slime down his chins as it stretched down and fanning wide before slopping against Leia's mid-chest, its tip quivering and probing about at the top of her cleavage as it slid up to her collar and along her neck. She keened again, louder, and now felt his hand slide across her backside, his fat fingers starting to touch the exposed flesh of her right buttock beyond the edge of her skirt.

Any remaining doubts she had about the Hutt's actual intentions for her were quashed in that very moment. Jabba was _absolutely_ a pervert among his fellow Hutts.

As Jabba licked up the middle of Leia's chest again, she pressed her hands to his flesh and pushed frantically. His hand squeezed her buttock, and she twisted her lower body, moving her right leg so she could press her foot at the base of his belly and push herself back. Jabba's hand slid beneath the lower curve of her backside as he licked up her neck again.

"_HAUNNNGH!_" Leia twisted her leg in, trying to shove her knee into his gut as his hand slid down her thigh. She tried to move her leg away, but Jabba's hand followed. She attempted to lift her leg back and away, but his hand moved down behind her knee and pulled—forcing her leg higher, her inner thigh sliding up against the side of his big belly, until her thighs were spread fully against the base of his belly.

"_Good_ girl…" he gurgle-purred, and resumed licking her heaving breasts.

"_Unnnh…_" Leia whimpered, feeling his hand slide back up her thigh, traveling around to its front. She flung her hand to his, grabbing and trying to push it away, but his soft flesh squished and stretched uselessly. As his hand slid up along her thigh, Leia squeezed his flesh tighter, her breath catching in her chest as his fingertips began to slide beneath the edge of her skirt—

"_Goonu, _Master!" a voice called, andJabba's tongue, pressed against Leia's mid-chest, slid upward and withdrew with a terribly loud slurp. He released her leg, and she threw it down so hard the impact of her foot upon the throne was painful.

Panting, her heart racing inside her slime-smeared chest as it heaved into his squishy, flabby rolls, Leia turned her gaze fearfully back to the Hutt.

"_Ohhh_..." Jabba moaned, and Leia saw that his eyes were fixed somewhere behind her.

Much to her surprise, he released her—and didn't attempt to stop her as she pulled away from his arms and staggered back, her bare legs twitching and shaking beneath her as she struggled to catch her breath.

"What have we here, Porcellus?" Jabba asked, licking his lips, and Leia cringed when she spotted the twin, arched shapes of cascading slime that had pooled on his chins where her breasts had been shoved against them. She looked down at her chest and silently cursed, then began wiping at the slime left there.

Nearby, the man known as Porcellus, presumably a chef, stood beside a two-tier hover-cart, gesturing at the colorful foods piled high in several large dishes and bowls.

She froze as a metallic jingle filled the air, and before she could react, Jabba gave her chain a hard _yank_. She gagged and staggered back, grabbing at the collar as the Hutt snarled, "_Gyacho!_ I am not done with you, _khankee_."

Leia straightened, coughed, and glared at him fearfully.

Jabba's eyes narrowed, and he growled faintly, lifting his arm, the chain tightening—

_Oh, Force, _enough_, _Leia thought, then heard herself say aloud, "_Alright_, alright!"

She could care less about what the Hutt or his majordomo or anyone else would have to say—or do—about her refusal to "properly" address him. Taking a heavy breath, she bitterly stomped back to the Hutt and rammed her lower body against his once again. His chain-hand slid back over her backside to hold her in place, but she was too furious and embarrassed to care.

A soft humming sound came from beside her, and Leia watched as Porcellus guided the hover-cart up to the armrest of Jabba's throne. He positioned it carefully, then lowered it onto the armrest, and several quick metallic clicks sounded, likely locking the tray in place. Jabba grumbled, and Porcellus smiled, bowed, and snuck off.

Leia looked over the dishes, frowning. A couple of the ones on the top tray had small curls and wisps of steam rising, but most of them seemed to be of a cooler temperature. Every dish looked thick, lumpy, and moist—likely perfectly suited for a Hutt's diet. She began to wonder when her own food would be brought in.

Jabba's huge head twisted to the trays. "_Ooooahh... _Worry not, my pet. These will be friendly to your stomach."

_How comforting_, Leia thought, watching as he moved a chunky arm over them, and then her eyes widened when she realized something was wrong with the offering—something was _missing_.

There were no utensils, no plates, and no napkins.

As if driving the point home, Jabba's big hand scooped up a handful of thick, pale slabs covered with orange liquid, turned up, and moved back toward his face. Little orange flecks dripped onto his chins as he opened his mouth and extended his tongue, and he practically _wiped_ his hand along the inside of his lip before closing his maw, slurping thickly.

Leia flinched as he reached over and did it again, this time with something dark green, likely some kind of shredded vegetable. She watched him lift it to his face again, then looked away as the wet slurps and slops filled the air.

But then her stomach growled again, and she sighed angrily, looking back at the tray.

_It's food_, she reasoned. Maybe it wasn't particularly good food, maybe it was messy—but it was food, nonetheless.

Swallowing her dignity, Leia lifted her right hand, slowly reached for the top tray—

"_Gyacho_," Jabba barked, and Leia turned to him, her hand frozen in mid-air. "You are _khankee_. You do not take freely here. _You are __provided.__"_

Leia felt her upper lip curl at this. She glared spitefully into Jabba's eyes as he reached over to grab another handful of the sloppy, dark green food—only now, he held it up near her face.

"Now," he said, "_do _you wish to eat_,_ _Leia khankee?_"

Leia glared at the food in his hand, then back to Jabba's eyes. He was so dead-set on treating her like a slave that he wouldn't even allow her to eat unless he _fed_ her.

_Luke, you can't arrive soon enough_, Leia thought, and muttered, "Yes, Master."

Jabba chuckled and held the food closer to her face. Holding her breath, she inclined her head toward it, opened her lips and extended her tongue, and carefully scooped the offering into her mouth, then pulled back.

Sure enough, it was some kind of shredded vegetable. It was very salty, but had a sweet underflavor that surprised her. She chewed it, juices squirting inside her mouth, and swallowed. Despite her disgust and humiliation, part of her recognized that it was rather tasty.

Jabba grumbled and reached for another handful, and then he offered it to her again.

Leia looked up at him. "No, thank you," she muttered, and for good measure, "Master."

"_Eat_, girl. You need to put some flesh on those bones."

Leia shot him an annoyed look, but said nothing. Her hunger was stronger than her pride, however, and so she leaned in, still glaring into Jabba's amused eyes, and proceeded to take another mouthful of the shredded vegetables.

"Don't waste it," Jabba said.

Chewing, Leia took a heavy breath, swallowed, and got the filthy task that he was clearly yearning for out of the way. She leaned in, extended her tongue, and proceeded to lick the remaining scraps of vegetable matter off the Hutt's hand.

Jabba chuckled, then began to laugh, his fleshly rolls quaking and jiggling against her front. When he was done, he licked his lips, then reached for another dish.

Leia watched his hand dip into a pile of thick, pale, steaming pulp, some kind of mashed, baked root, runny with yellow butter. It emerged with a wet squelch, butter dripping out from between his huge fingers. As he lifted it toward his mouth, she gasped and looked down at a few hot droplets that had landed on her breasts.

Jabba's hand paused before his opening maw, then lowered...and repositioned directly before her face.

Swallowing her pride, Leia leaned in and ungraciously began to lick the mash out of Jabba's hand—and she grunted as a few hot chunks landed on her exposed upper chest.

Jabba burst out laughing at this, as did a few others. Furious, Leia felt her cheeks burning as she chewed and swallowed the mash, barely tasting it—and then Jabba's food-smeared hand lowered, grabbed the chain, and tugged her closer. She barely had time to react as his mouth opened and his tongue slopped out.

With a crude, gurgling moan, Jabba proceeded to _lick_ the fallen slop of mash right off of Leia's chest, replacing the spill with his own thick, gooey saliva.

"Let's not make a mess," he said, chuckling as he licked her face again. Blushing and spitting, Leia shook her head, her chain jangling, and Jabba said, "Remove your top, girl."

Leia's heart stopped. He had _not_ just said that, had he? Surely, her understanding of Huttese was flawed; he simply _couldn't_ have—

"No," Leia said, then immediately regretted it. She recalled what Melina had said about the other slave who had died, before Jabba had made Leia take her place on his throne. She'd died because she'd been too resistant. If Leia were to start resisting Jabba now, then—

Jabba was seemingly unsurprised at her protest. "Consider your situation, girl. You have no friends to help you, and you have no authority. Here, you are no Rebel, and you are certainly no longer a Princess. You are my slave."

Han. Lando. Chewbacca. The droids. Her own life. All were in grave danger, depending on what Jabba decided to do with them. Luke wouldn't arrive for another two days. If _any_ of them were to stay alive while Jabba's attention was fully upon her, then her behavior was the key to everything. She had already determined that making the perfect balance of submission and resistance with Jabba would be the only way to avoid raising his suspicions _or_ of getting too angry with her…so the only thing she could do, now, was give him exactly what he wanted: a resistant woman slowly being overpowered by his slimy, sadistic advances.

Choosing her words carefully, Leia muttered, "I'll never serve you, because I'm _not_ your slave!"

Jabba's nostrils flared wetly with a mucoid snort, and he growled. "We shall see about that."

Leia's breath died in her lungs as she felt his clammy hand touched her upper thigh. She looked down in time to see his fat, stickywet fingers shoving between their joined lower bodies, working beneath her front skirt.

Her gaze shot up to meet Jabba's, and he narrowed his eyes, grumbling wetly. With a terrified grunt, she tried to pull herself away, but his other hand pressed against her buttocks, pinning her lower body in place as his fingertips probed along her uppermost inner thigh. "Relax," he said.

_For Han_. The words were as heavy and as craggy as stones, and for a moment, Leia almost thought that someone else had spoken them. _For Lando. For Chewie. For the droids. For Luke. For my own life._

Leia gasped again, squeezed her eyes shut, and turned her head away.

#

It was painful.

It was invasive.

It was humiliating.

It was horrifying.

And it was powerful.

#

Leia panted and gasped through clenched teeth, her back arched, her still-covered (and slime-smeared) breasts heaving in the air before Jabba's enormous lips. Her arms formed a V alongside her torso, her hands firmly clutched around Jabba's wrist as his hand worked beneath her front skirt.

After a moment, her head rolled back, and she loosed a shaky hiss at the ceiling. She gasped at much-needed air—then let loose a loud, terrible moan. Her eyes fluttered briefly open, then squeezed shut again as Jabba wrenched a second, hoarse groan out of her…and then it was done.

#

She was only fleetingly aware of what happened after. There was a painful sensation as the invading digit voided her. Before her, Jabba was laughing smugly. The audience was cheering and hooting. And Leia, panting and sore and shaking, found herself dropping to the cushions before Jabba, struggling to hold back the tears that threatened to break her composure completely. She couldn't—she _refused_—to show any weakness.

Yet as memories of the molestation returned to haunt her, again and again and again, Leia bitterly realized that what he'd just done to her—what he'd forced her feel, to vocalize…it had forced her shown a vulnerability—a weakness—in herself that not even she had known she possessed.

Chewing on her inner cheek to stifle the whimpers and sobs that trembled her body, she crossed her arms over her chest and drew her legs up close to her abdomen, keeping her gaze averted from everybody else's for the rest of that afternoon.

#

That evening, after settling another drug deal, Jabba helped himself to his hookah. He gave a quick tug on Leia's chain and offered the slime-smeared mouthpiece to her, but when she mumbled something about not partaking in the indulgence, he chuckled in amusement and yanked again harder, dropping her back against himself as he resumed puffing it.

Laying against her bloated captor as his hand dropped to rub her upper chest, Leia watched a couple of Gamorrean guards hauling out the crates of acquired (and unknown) merchandise_—_and then suddenly realized something: she hadn't seen Lando since her capture.

Where had he gone? It was doubtful that he had been captured, for Jabba would have taken much glee in apprehending_—_and likely killing_—_one of Han's friends, and all the moreso for his alliance with the Rebellion. No, Leia was sure that Lando was alive; he was likely hiding out elsewhere in the palace. But why?

_He doesn't want to see me_, a sour thought intruded, and though she quickly tried to dismiss it, it resonated in her head. After all, Lando had helped bring Leia to Jabba upon her capture; had he simply not seen what Jabba did to his slaves? Unlikely; surely, he'd been trying to continue the farce of being an attentive, loyal guard in the palace...

And then Leia knew exactly why he'd made himself scarce: he knew _exactly_ what Jabba was going to do to her, and like Threepio, he "couldn't bear to watch." The only consolation she took_—_the one difference between him and the shrewd droid—was that she knew how smart Lando was. He had made grim sacrifices before in order to serve a later, greater good; that was partly how Han had gotten caught up in this whole mess. He knew the risks involved_—_but he also knew how strong and resourceful Leia was. If he'd had his doubts that she would have been able to survive in the company of the Hutt, he would have done something else_—_starting with keeping watch over her. No, he knew that Leia would persevere through her enslavement. She couldn't blame him, for not wanting to witness the Hutt defiling her in the meantime.

Leia slowly slid her bare leg away from the Hutt's quivering tail, took a deep breath, and let it out. _I can do this_, she thought, feeling the chain slacken, and starting to count down the time she would allow herself before sitting forward from the Hutt again. _I can do this_.

#

Later, his pet lizard-monkey reappeared. It was clutching something shredded and gory in its claw, tearing at the unrecognizable morsel with its beak. When it saw her upon the throne, it cooed curiously, tossing the scrap on the floor, leaped up on the throne beside her and chattering something illegible at her, then snuggled into the ring of Jabba's coiled tail, lowering its head with slow, sleepy movements.

Jabba yanked Leia's chain, rocking from her sitting position to, and her back landed upon his big belly with a fleshy _smack_, her chain crashing noisily upon his heaped bulk beside her. He grumbled her name wetly and stroked her shoulder, and Leia sighed, watching as the Audience Chamber slowly emptied out. Soon, deep, grumbling snores began to vibrate the wall of flesh behind her, and his nostrils bubbled and splurted with his sleepy breaths.

She yawned, beginning to realize just how tired she really was, and the last thing she knew that evening was the sensation of her suddenly heavy eyelids.

#

_She was awoken in the middle of the night by a hard yank on her chain. Gagging, she grabbed at her collar, then clumsily pushed herself to her feet and faced him._

_He yanked her chain again, and with slow, sleepy movements, she pressed her half-naked body up against his squishy, slimy bulk. She spread her thighs and rammed her pelvis more firmly into the front of his bulbous belly, then leaned forward until her breasts shoved into the soft flesh of his chins, her cleavage presented fully to the mercy of his lips, mere inches above her heaving bosom._

_With a satisfied grumble, he proceeded to slop-kiss her face. She uttered a sleepy, breathy moan and turned her head, feeling the huge tongue smear across her face and cheek. His tongue began to slide down the front of her throat and onto her upper chest, and she shivered, her lower body pushing more firmly into the Hutt's belly._

_He chuckled again, briefly withdrawing his tongue, and purred her name._ Leia khankee…

_She closed her eyes as his big, clammy slid down over her lower body, his huge tongue sliding down her neck. She gasped as he grabbed her backside in both of his hands, and she moaned breathily as he gave it a good, firm squeeze._

_In response, she curled her hips forward and up against his gut, dropped them, then slowly curled them up again, and repeated the motion, slowly grinding her pelvis against him, breathing more heavily._

_He belched a gurgling moan of satisfaction. His huge tongue began to slide down from her neck, over her heaving chest, and she could feel the caressing pinches of erecting flesh tightening in response, chafing against the confining fabric of her top's cups._

_At his command, she removed her top, and he began to lick her breasts, his enormous tongue slopping over their curves, caressing her nipples into erection, and she moaned again, louder._

_She felt him touch her, and she grabbed at her front skirt, pulling it aside, giving him more room as he worked his thick digit up into her._

Master, _Slave Leia gasped, throwing her head back and moaning, moving her hips, her chain beginning to clink softly with each slow hump. _Oh_, Master_-

#

Leia gasped and opened her eyes to the darkened audience chamber. She shuddered and sat upright, tensing as she heard a few links of her chain jingle and clink, but when she peered up at the Hutt behind her, she was relieved to see he was sound asleep. Beside her on the cushions, the lizard-monkey stirred, but it did not awaken.

_Dream_, she thought, letting out a shaky breath. _Just a dream._

However, as bits and pieces of sensations began to drop back into her mind and half-remembered things began to caress her flesh once again, she shivered and crossed her arms over her chest, uncomfortable with the powerfully _unfulfilled _sensation that still pulsed deep inside of her.

It had been an awful, twisted, perversely corrupted dream, and all that she was feeling now was her body's primal, stimulated response. Nothing more.

She yawned and reached up to touch her face—and almost gasped aloud when she felt the unmistakable remains of dried, crumbled slime. She relaxed, remembering how much of a mess the Hutt had made on her hours before, and brushed them off feeling them rain onto her chest. She lowered her hand to brush them away…and now she _did_ gasp.

More—_much_ more—of the dried slime was caked onto the skin of her mid-chest and neck.

_No_, she thought. _That didn't happen_, she told—_urged_—herself.

And yet…

No.

_No_.

Leia let loose a shuddering sigh, knowing that none of this added up. Whatever _had_ happened, she was certain that she didn't wantto know _how_.

With a shudder, she frantically wiped and patted her chest clean and forced her eyes closed again, but sleep was a long way off.


	5. Chapter 5: A Day In the Life

Chapter 5: A Day In the Life

She awoke again to the sound of jingling metal, and instinctively threw her hand to her throat, fingers clawing at the collar as she quickly sat up. Fortunately, the collar and the chain were slack, and letting out a heavy breath, she relaxed. _Good_, she thought. _Still asleep_.

She let the collar go and took a moment to even her breathing. She was sprawled across the cushions piled at the base of Jabba's belly, and twisted over and pushed her arm beneath herself. Her breasts were uncomfortably crooked inside the metal-framed cups of her top. She pushed herself fully upright and started to adjust the frames when the chain jingled again—much more loudly.

Tensing, Leia grabbed at her collar again, eyes widening, her heart thumping up in tempo. Across the audience chamber floor, she could see a couple of sleepy onlookers pointing at her, smiling and chuckling, and beside her, the lizard-monkey began cackling.

"_Huuuahh…_" the Hutt rumbled from behind her, and when the chain jingled again, Leia tensed. She rolled onto her knees, and pushed herself to her feet. She turned to face Jabba, who licked his lips, his narrowed eyes focusing upon her as he lifted his arm upright, the links of the chain stretching from his hand—

Sighing heavily, she stepped forward until her lower body was once again rammed firmly into the front of his bulging gut. Taking a heavy breath, she placed her hands on his belly's upper slope and leaned forward, until she felt the fleshy rolls of his chins, sticky with the night's worth of half-dried saliva that had dribbled onto them, squash up against the fronts of her breasts.

"_Ho-Ho-ho-ho-hooo…_" the Hutt laughed, his body quaking against hers. Another round of hooting laughs erupted from his huge mouth, his morning breath even more rank than it had been the day before, and now others joined in on the laughter. Leia frowned and glanced around uncertainly, growing suspicious of what they all found so funny. Watching her face, Jabba said, "Attentive, even without being summoned! _HO-Ho-ho-ho-hooo!_"

As he burst out laughing again, his sloped form rocking back and forth (and her with it), Leia pondered his exclamation.

What did he mean? Sure, she'd decided to avoid being choked when he yanked on her chain, but—

The Hutt lifted his hand beside her face, the chain hanging from it—but to her confusion, its slack didn't take an immediate curve back up to her neck, instead going straight down. Her gaze wandered along its length, down, down, until she found where it lay across the cushions and pillows at the Hutt's belly before stretching up again to her neck.

Realization crept into Leia's mind as the Hutt wiggled his hand back and forth beside her face, the chain producing same, noisy jingle that had awoken her, and Leia felt her cheeks burn.

As the laughter around her increased, Leia felt Jabba's beefy arm slide around her waist and pull her closer, the chain icy against her bare skin. She watched his mouth open, saw his tongue beginning to emerge and stretch toward her face, but she was too furious to care. Furious at the Hutt…and even moreso at herself.

Jabba had rattled the chain to trick her into thinking he was going to yank it—and she had _willingly_ assumed the slave's embrace for him, like the damned fool that he had made of her.

#

Leia closed her eyes and pressed her lips tightly together just as Jabba's wide, dripping, quivering tongue met her cheek and slowly slid across her mouth, smearing thick slime everywhere it went. His tongue slowly withdrew into his dripping, toothless maw as a wet gurgle escaped from his gullet, and then his mouth opened even wider, his flabby, slimy chins rubbing down along the fronts of her breasts—and then his tongue planted squarely against the exposed flesh of her mid-chest.

Leia let out a heavy, shaky breath, then inhaled, her skin crawling as Jabba's tongue crawled and slithered wetly down her chest, its tip dipping into her cleavage before it grew too thick to go any further. It fanned out, its tip curling back before slapping wetly against the length of her cleavage, slowly sliding up toward her neck—and Leia tensed as she felt Jabba's free hand press against her upper thigh…and slid swiftly between their locked lower bodies, fat fingertips worming beneath her frontal skirt.

She turned her head away, the corners of her pursed lips curling down in anticipation. She took a sharp breath and looked down, watching helplessly as Jabba's hand maneuvered beneath the skirt, his fat digits running over her privacy—and then a fat digit began its unsteady, painful invasion. Leia loosed a heavy moan, full of her disgust, fear, and overpowered sensations, then fell silent, breathing heavily through her open mouth as Jabba's tongue retracted.

Jabba worked at her slowly, methodically. Leia winced and gasped, biting down on her lower lip, not caring about the taste of slime. His entrance yesterday had been far more powerful, far more…_large_, than anything she'd ever experienced. It had been exquisitely painful, and even now, her tender flesh blossomed with dull aches…but so did the other feelings, which he had forced into her yesterday. Leia's lips parted with a slow gasp…and then a soft groan of conflicting sensations escaped. "_Mmmm_…" Jabba purred, and as his finger began to work harder, Leia groaned again.

"Remove your top."

Leia's eyes flew open, and she threw him a defiant glare as his own huge eyes narrowed.

"That's a command, _khankee_," he growled.

Leia continued to glare at him, then turned her furious gaze elsewhere. She saw a couple of chuckling guests fall silent, one of them lightly punching the other one before pointing and whispering something. She looked away, only to meet the gaze of the large Askajian slave dancer, who was sitting on a stool, her thick arms crossed over her topmost set of breasts, an amused smirk on her face. Leia looked up at the ceiling, blinking hopelessly before groaning loudly as Jabba's working finger rammed upwards. "_AUNH!_"

Despite how revealing her outfit was, Leia was _not_ about to disrobe. Not for Jabba, nor for anyone here…not like this. But considering what Jabba was doing to her, what he had _already_ done to her, in front of so many unsavory cronies of his…was there really any point in trying to maintain the mockery of modesty that covered only a few select areas of her body?

"If you don't," Jabba growled, his voice hardening, "then _I_ _will_."

Leia bit her lower lip, wincing from Jabba's moving finger, and then looked away, blushing and sighing. _Oh, Force, forgive me_.

Praying that Lando or the droids were nowhere nearby, she began to slowly lift her hands along her sides…and then she realized then just how _quiet_ the room had gotten around her. Her hands stopped short of her chest, her fingers curling in until they were fists. Tears began to sting her eyes.

It hardly mattered if Lando or the droids were watching—the rest of the audience chamber were watching, waiting with bated breath…and they would see what they wanted to see. It was only a question of if Leia would provide it willingly…

Swallowing hard, Leia turned her gaze straight down. Unclenching her fist, she raised her shaking left hand up beside her breast, trying to see where the strap—

"_UNGH!_" she whimpered as Jabba's hand moved hard at her groin before growing still again, and she fleetingly realized that he'd paused his molestation to keep his attention—and her energy—focused on the task at hand.

Savoring every second that his invasive finger didn't ream another vocal admission of her weakness, Leia pursed her lips, panting, her mind racing as she tried to recall how Melina had put this skimpy outfit on her.

The straps that crisscrossed her back ended in small loops that were secured onto the hooked ends of golden bands beneath her top's cups—all too easy to remove. _Even for a Hutt_, she thought with disgust, having otherwise hoped that his threat to strip her himself had been an empty one.

She grabbed the looped end in her fingertips, pulled it over and off the hook—and even though her top was pinned in place between her chest and Jabba's bulk, she felt the gold frames come loose. She released the strap, and it brushed across her mid-back as its slackened length dropped down to her right side.

A few snickers and excited whispers arose behind her, and Leia took a heavy breath, lowering her left hand and turning to look down at her right side. Breathing more quickly through her mouth now, she reached up and repeated the process, and her top popped loose, held only in place by her forward-leaning position against the Hutt, and she balked with realization.

The slave's embrace was the only thing keeping her upper body covered.

_This is it_, Leia thought, feeling her shame and humiliation reach levels unfamiliar to her. As soon as she removed her top, the entire audience would see—

_YANK!_

Jabba's hard tug on the chain caught her by total surprise—she'd only barely even been aware of his arm lifting beside her as she'd been fumbling with her right strap. He'd managed to grab the chain mere inches from her neck before pulling it, wrenching the collar backwards and choking her. Her hands flung up to grab at the collar, her eyes squeezing shut as she gagged, feeling the relief of the slackened metal came loose from her throat as something smooth, narrow, and hard seemed to drag down the length of her upper belly. Air touched her exposed chest, and she felt her skin tightening in the coolness.

Jabba belched a hearty "_Oooahh…_" as the audience burst into cheers and laughter all around her.

Leia didn't look down, didn't even open her eyes, as the hottest flush she'd ever experienced filled her cheeks. She felt Jabba's chain-wielding hand grab her fallen top and pull it up from where it fell between their joined lower bodies, the loose straps sliding down her shoulders, her chest, her sides and belly. There was a hard _thud_ beside her feet, and the cheering only grew louder.

Leia bared her teeth as Jabba's cavernous mouth opened. His enormous tongue stretched and quivered wetly into the air, fanning wide as its end curled down toward her exposed chest—and made contact.

She groaned in disgust, turning her head away as he began to lick her breasts—and her voice only got louder as his finger began to move inside her again.

#

After what felt like a slimy, painful eternity, Leia evened her breathing, allowed herself to experience what was being forced into her senses—and, her body bucking and heaving against Jabba's bulk, she threw her head back and let loose a final, terrible groan.

She barely listened—barely comprehended—the slovenly grumbles and words of cruel affection that Jabba purred and cooed wetly to her as he licked at her slimy upper body and face. She could only hear her heavy breaths, her thundering pulse…and echoes of her own voice mere moments before.

Jabba clearly had performed these actions—and very likely more—many times with his many slaves, over the years. He knew his way around a female humanoid's sexual anatomy, to say nothing of his cruel, manipulative attitude.

_Bastard_, Leia thought—then cried out as his fat digit pulled swiftly down inside her, and his hand fumbled out from between her spread thighs. His other hand disappeared from her lower back, and—much to Leia's relief—he commanded her to sit.

Still panting, Leia pushed herself upright, her breasts separating from Jabba's slimy chins with a sickeningly loud, wet, sticky sound. She pulled her pelvis away from his gut and staggered back, hugging an arm over the fronts of her slimy breasts as she turned and searched for her top. It had fallen—or been dropped—at the base of Jabba's tail, resting crookedly atop a few cushions.

Leia briefly wondered how the hell she would get her top back on in front of everybody, then had to remind herself of what they'd just witnessed.

_What I did_…

Sighing angrily, Leia crouched, wincing at the wet pain that radiated from her groin, and snatched her top up from the throne with her free hand. Ignoring a few amused chuckles, she pulled her arm away from her breasts, flinching at the strings of saliva that stretched between them. She threw the straps over her shoulders, knowing that she could care less about staining the material with his slime as she pressed the cups back into place, grabbing the loose ends of the straps and fumbling them back into place beneath her armpits.

It was a terribly perfect design, she reflected as she secured the straps back onto their gold hooks. Highly revealing, and easily removed. _Perfect for a slave_, she thought, coughing briefly.

Her throat felt hoarse. She'd been much louder, toward the end, from the pain and other sensations that Jabba had jolted through her whole body. And as sore as she was, she knew the repeated defilements would only pave the way to less pain…and to stronger sensations.

Luke couldn't come fast en—

_YANK_.

"Sit, _khankee_," Jabba barked, and she turned to find him pointing at the base of his belly.

Glaring at him, she stepped closer, turned, and dropped to the cushions before him.

#

Leia had started to wonder why the Hutt was acting so disinterested and bluntly with her now, but as a couple of guards led in a large group lugging big, heavy cases, she realized what was going on. A man with a heavily scarred face stepped forward and began to speak with Jabba about some kind of weapons deal. At one point, she caught the dealer's scarred face glancing at her own, frowning more than admiring.

Once the deal was finished, the dealer pointed at Leia and asked Jabba, "Is that who I think it is?"

"It is indeed…" the Hutt proclaimed proudly.

_It_, Leia angrily reflected—then tensed as Jabba tugged up on the chain twice, the collar digging into her jaw.

Leia realized he was silently commanding her to rise to her feet. She did as she was ordered, turning her gaze to the stone floor as the dealer voiced his lewd admiration. Jabba commanded Leia to turn around, and she closed her eyes, blushing angrily as she twisted and raised a leg to move toward him for his filthy slave's embrace—but then Jabba lifted his free hand, halting her—and as the dealer began laughing, she realized what the Hutt was doing.

He was showing her off like a prize.

Then Jabba yanked her chain, making Leia stagger closer. _No, no__!_ Leia thought; but rather than putting up a struggle and risking coming across as even more pathetic in her captivity than she already was, she swallowed her pride and timidly assumed the slave's embrace.

Behind her, the dealer chuckled heartily, clapping his hands in approval as Jabba licked at her face—which Leia was grateful the dealer couldn't see for the blushing grimace that spread across it.

"A woman of such _high regard_," Jabba said, and the dealer began laughing louder. "A _lady_, a _Princess_…now she is _tooma_ _Leia khankee!_" He joined in the dealer's laughter, and Leia was only too grateful when the dealer quieted and turned the conversation back to the transaction at hand. Jabba released Leia, and she pulled away and sat back down before him, rubbing the slime from her face and blushing furiously.

A guard brought in a case, which he opened to reveal credits for the deal. Satisfied, the dealer thanked Jabba and congratulated him again on his "catch," and he led his group out as guards took the weapons to his armory.

A few minutes later, Jabba yanked her chain again.

#

Jabba commanded her to go onto the floor before the throne. He threw the length of the chain beside her feet, and all the slackened links elevated her tension as she reluctantly rose before him.

Her fears were fully realized when the band began to play music; yet she climbed off the throne and adjusted her loose garments as best as she could before turning to face the Hutt…who then commanded her to dance.

She had only seen Jabba's dancers perform once before, and couldn't recall having learned anything from it. The music kept playing, however, and Jabba continued to stare down at her. "Dance for me, _Leia khankee_."

_Just stay alive_, Leia thought, and raising her arms above her head and closing her eyes, she thought back as hard and deeply and she could on her memories of watching the other dancers, and tried to make her body follow what she saw.

It was a clumsy and graceless performance. The unwieldy chain proved to be a cumbersome, noisy hindrance. But as the song continued, its melody became more pronounced, and Leia her body began to move more easily, more independently. Her hips rocked and gyrated, and her torso twisting in ways she didn't know she was capable of beyond any of her physical training in the Rebellion. For a few fleeting seconds, she almost felt some kind of strange freedom through her movements.

_YANK!_

The snapping metal links tore Leia from her brief respite, and she opened her eyes and stopped dancing.

She turned to find Jabba had the chain in his hand again, and was lifting his arm up to give it another tug. Not wishing to be drawn in like some kind of animal, she begrudgingly strode to the throne and climbed atop it. As she straightened before Jabba, she faltered, knowing exactly what he wanted; but as the Hutt narrowed his eyes and licked his lips, Leia took a heavy breath and shoved herself into his slave's embrace. She gasped as his big hand brushed over her left breast, but it mercifully continued down and around her until he was holding her by her mid-back.

"Good work," Jabba said, his rank breath hot upon her body. Leia held her disgust in check as he began to reward her face and neck with fresh slop-kisses. "_Good…work_…" he spoke between each beastly slurp, his tongue starting to slop down onto her chest, "…_Leia…khankee…_" Then he began to lick her cleavage.

"_Auh-unghh…_" she moaned, hating how pathetic, how helpless, she sounded.

"Off again, _khankee_," he purred and shivering, Leia swallowed her pride and raised her twitching hands beneath her armpits and got the humiliating task over with.

As Jabba opened his mouth before her exposed breasts, she felt his hand brush her lower belly. _Oh, Force, when will this _end? she thought, and hoping it might make the molestation go by faster, she spread her legs a little…and as tongue and hand found their targets once again, se closed her eyes and began to moan.

#

He had her remain topless in the slave's embrace while he ordered in food. She didn't realize how hungry she was until she was practically shoving her mouth into the thick, oozing morsels that he offered her. He chuckled and belched a degrading observation about how she was eating, but she didn't care—she was too hungry.

When scraps and splatters of food fell on her chest, Jabba didn't waste a second. He opened his cavernous mouth and began licking, his enormous, slimy tongue sliding over the curves of her breasts. Leia let loose a long, heavy breath and looked away while he did this, and after a moment, he retracted his tongue. "Do you enjoy this?" he gurgled.

Leia turned to face him, blinking so slowly that she thought her eyes would never open again. She didn't tell him what she wanted to say, and so Jabba extended his tongue and began to lick her right breast.

His lumpy, slime-slick tongue moved easily over her soft flesh, its tip curling as it ran over her nipple. Leia gasped, and Jabba's flesh wobbled against her stomach with a chuckle. His tongue thickened into a huge, fleshy rod, its tip rubbing up the upper curve of her breast before it retracted, curled down, extended again…and rubbed its tip directly over her stiffening nipple again.

"_Unh_," Leia uttered, then clamped her lips shut. _He's testing me_, she thought. _Trying to make me—_

Jabba's tongue flicked again, and Leia gasped, her whole body trembling against his.

He retracted his tongue, his rank breath drifting over her face as he belched an amused sound. "_Oooah._ Yes you do." He chuckled. "You are blushing, girl! _HO-Ho-ho-ho-hooo…_"

As the audience joined in on her humiliation, Leia felt her cheeks turn into hot embers. She bit her lower lip and looked away again.

"Such a prude." Jabba licked his lips, his dripping nostrils flaring. "So modest. So _proud_. We will fix that, yet…"

#

The day wore on.

That afternoon, Jabba enjoyed a massive, projected board game, bellowing out moves for the holographic pieces to move around across the squares that glowed on his floor. He angrily tugged on Leia's chain as the automated opponent took a few of his pieces.

He stopped the game when another dealer arrived, this time buying the drug known as spice from Jabba. The dealer didn't seem to know—or care—who Leia was, even when Jabba gave her chain a yank so hard that she fell back with a choked cry, for apparently no reason other than showing off his power over her.

The deal was apparently a big score for Jabba, because after the dealer left, he bellowed for Porcellus to bring in "a feast to celebrate."

While they waited, Jabba pulled Leia to her feet and molested her again.

#

A feast it was, indeed—plates upon plates of heaped morsels for both him and his slave. A massive decanter full of dark red wine was also brought in, and a couple of Jawas filled a tall goblet. Jabba gave Leia's chain a tug, and she set her jaw as she rose and assumed the slave's embrace.

Between sloppy servings of food, Jabba drank copiously, at times splashing droplets of wine on her face and chest as he slurped at the goblet. His movements began to show his increasing intoxication with subsequent refills.

"Good deal," he gurgled at one point, his warm breath, rank and foul with half-digested wine, drifting past Leia's flinching face. "A _very_ good deal…"

_Congratulations_, Leia wanted to say, but remained silent—until Jabba pressed his lips together as a burp formed deep in his gut, then parted them with a gurgling groan, his rank breath spilling over Leia's features. She groaned and turned her head away, flinching, as Jabba licked his lips and began to chuckle. "I'm almost tempted to keep you, after all!"

Leia's eyes widened, and she slowly turned her gaze back to his. Melina had said something about how new slaves were usually allowed to wander the palace once Jabba was "finished" with them—but Leia had a feeling that that wasn't what he was talking about.

She looked uncertainly up at him as he took another swig of his wine, and before she could stop herself, she muttered, "What do you mean?"

Jabba's huge, drool-covered jaw dropped and lifted as his huge tongue slid out to lick at his lips, his thick rolls of flesh rubbing against Leia's breasts. "You're a valuable asset, _Princess_." He belched again, but Leia only blinked against the miasma as she listened. "You may be worth quite a lot to the Empire," he finished, matter-of-factly, and Leia's heart sank.

His intoxication had led way to honesty, Leia knew, because that must have been his plan, all along. He didn't value her captivity to him for any reason other than her worth as a bounty. All of his demands, all of his discipline, all of his sick rules and cruel molestations—all of it was just him playing with her, showing off his power over a woman who also happened to be of significant financial value to him. Her hatred of him reached new levels, and she found herself so angry that her fists balled at her sides.

But what about Luke and the others? What did this mean for them? How much longer was Jabba planning on holding her before he sold her to the Empire?

Jabba must have seen the intensifying look on her face, for he licked his lips and held his wine closer to her. "Don't get your hopes up, _khankee_. I am _far_ from done with you…" Leia's heart was racing in her chest, and she turned and watched the goblet rise beside her face. "Drink."

She had time. Jabba likely wouldn't sell her off before Luke arrived—not within a two-day period. But she couldn't put all of her stock in that likelihood. He was clearly making good on his promise to "thoroughly enjoy the pleasure of her company." If Leia could give him that pleasure for just a couple more days…

She leaned in to the goblet and opened her lips, and Jabba held it closer until its glass rim touched them. She inclined her head as he tipped it up, and its contents flowed into her mouth. The wine was bitter and smoky, but it had a fruity flavor that was surprisingly inoffensive. She swallowed, but the Hutt was raising the glass higher, and she had to force herself to take another mouthful to keep up. She gulped it down hard, but he kept tipping up the goblet. She grunted into the glass, causing the wine to spurt around her lips, but Jabba didn't hear her protest, or didn't care. Gagging, she wrenched her head away, coughing and gasping—and the rest of the wine spilled out, splashing upon her neck and chest.

"_Agh!_" Leia cried, spitting and coughing again.

"_HO_-Ho-ho-ho-ho!" Jabba laughed, his wall of slime- and wine-slick flesh quaking and jiggling wetly against her body. "_HAH_-Hah-hah-hah-_hyyaaiigh..._"

Flinching, Leia began to raise a hand to try to wipe some of the wine from her chest, but dropped it as Jabba's thick chins squashed down upon her breasts as he opened his cavernous mouth and extended his tongue to lick at her dripping face. She groaned in repulsion, and the Hutt licked her open mouth, making her twist her head away, her voice rising. "_Aunnngh!_"

Still licking her face, Jabba chuckled. Blushing and spitting, Leia shook her head, her chain jangling. Jabba withdrew his tongue, then said, "Let's not waste good wine. Remove your top, girl."

Leia tensed and glared at him. _Vile bastard_, she thought, coughing again. She could feel the warmth of the wine spreading through her torso, seeming to rush into her ears.

She was tempted to warn him, to remind him of what she had promised when he'd first captured her: she had powerful friends, and he would regret this…but she knew better than that. She had made up her mind. She was still on a mission, and with the false scent of victory in Jabba's huge, dripping nostrils, she had the advantage. She would give him what he wanted, these next couple of days—for the tables would be turned, soon enough.

Taking a deep breath, Leia spread her feet and balanced her weight against the Hutt's belly. She arched her back, feeling droplets of wine spilling down into her cleavage, and raised her hands beneath her armpits. She found and unhooked the straps, and her damp top came loose. Grabbing its gold frames on either side, she pulled it up and off, and dropped it to the throne beside her. She ignored the rising voices of the surprised and amused audience as she moved her hands to Jabba's upper belly and flabby rolls. She glared into Jabba's gaze, even as it dropped to admire her voluntary offering. She didn't close her eyes as she leaned slowly forward again, curling her shoulders back and lifting up her chest. She didn't look away as Jabba's huge lips parted, nor make a sound as his tongue slid out amidst a thick spill of saliva. She stared into his eyes as his tongue moved forward, fanning out, and when he looked back up at her face, she didn't even blink.

Jabba's huge tongue pressed to the middle of her wine-slick chest and slid up, moving up her neck before lifting away and curling back into his mouth. Leia breathed evenly as his tongue emerged again, dripping afresh, and planted upon the front of her left breast. Inch upon thick, lumpy, oozing inch rubbed up over her nipple, which tightened in response. Leia took a sharp breath, but kept her silent resolve, even as the tip of Jabba's tongue flicked at her stiffening nipple before curling and swiveling through the air, fattening thickly and slapping upon her upper chest again, before sliding down. The Hutt uttered a long, gurgling sigh as he licked her right breast, the end of his tongue twisting downward so its tip met her nipple before the rest of it slid down over it. Leia's jaw clenched, her breath becoming more difficult to keep at the same, slow, even pace—but as Jabba's tongue slid along the lower curve of her breast and slowly licked around beneath it, her lips parted with a breathy sigh.

Force_, that wine is strong_, Leia thought, inhaling heavily as Jabba licked up the middle of her cleavage in a single, steady slurp, and as his tongue retracted for another dip in his slimy maw, she let out her breath in a slow, steady sigh.

Jabba's jaw lowered as he extended his tongue again, and as it returned to her left breast, Leia felt a shiver travel up her sides, through her chest, into her neck, and down her spine, and the Hutt's flesh wobbled thickly with her quivering body. At last, she closed her eyes, concentrating on her breathing as Jabba's tongue sent more undeniable sensations through her body.

She felt his free hand, relinquished of the goblet, press to her right hip, and didn't even try to stop him as he pulled her lower body closer. His gut's fat spilled over the upper edge of her front skirt plate, pushing it slightly down on her lower belly. She attempted to straighten her hips, but the movement only caused his belly-fat to slowly push the skirt plate even further down. Leia shrugged off her tension at the thought of losing that sacred bit of skimpy clothing, and with Jabba's hand to guide her, she snugged her pelvis firmly against his belly.

Jabba withdrew his tongue from Leia's slimy breasts. "_Andoba_," he purred. _More_.

She opened her eyes and turned to the sound of pouring liquid, and saw a couple of chattering Jawas refilling the goblet. Her breath hitched a little as she watched this, knowing full well what the Hutt was going to do, but she knew that nothing he could do to her in an intoxicated, weakened state would make any difference to who she was, or what she was about. Jabba's hand released her hip and moved to the glass. She remained in his slave's embrace, her slimy breasts heaving before his drooling lips, which widened for another sloppy slurp of wine. When he was done, he held the goblet silently before her, and throwing her pride to the wind, she leaned in and pressed her lips to its edge.

She managed to keep up with the gratuitous helping this time, gulping three mouthfuls before Jabba pulled the glass away. She licked her lips, feeling the warmth surging even more powerfully through her now, and closed her eyes as Jabba upended the goblet fully, pouring the rest of the wine all over her breasts.

Leia's body was rocked as the wall of flesh wobbled with sudden movement. She was only fleetingly aware of a dull thud and crack somewhere behind her as the discarded goblet smashed on the floor—for the sensation of Jabba's tongue upon her heaving breasts was impossible to ignore. It again contracted and fattened into an enormous, fleshy rod, pulsing and slurping her skin as its quivering, phallic end slid wetly down and up between her breasts.

She couldn't hold herself back any longer. She rolled her head back, inhaling, and moaned softly. "_Auunh…_"

She was at once horrified and ashamed to hear herself utter such a pathetic, overwhelmed sound, but as Jabba's tongue licked up her neck, she arched her back, lifting her slimy breasts beneath Jabba's tongue as she moaned again, louder. Then she felt a big hand cupped her right breast, a fat fingertip rubbing over her wet nipple, and she moaned softly.

_No!_ she thought, her eyelids fluttering. _This isn't right, this can't be, what am I—? _She lifted a hand to her breasts, trying to push Jabba's groping fingers away, but his hand lifted away and snatched her wrist. She took the opportunity to cover her breast with her hand, denying Jabba the pleasure of rubbing her stiff nipple, which reacted strongly as her own palm rubbed over it. Breathing heavier, Leia lifted her other hand to her other breast, squeezing both as the Hutt's flesh wobbled with a laugh.

Jabba's hands found her hips again and pulled, his bulky belly seeming to force its way between her knees, pushing them apart. She spread her legs, trying to keep her footing, and curled her hips back, down, forward again...and slowly up. Jabba's hands pushed and pulled her hips, and Leia, moaning, repeated the motion, feeling his belly-fat hiking the front of her skirts slowly down. One big hand slid down over her backside, caressing and encouraging it into motion. She did it again, breathing heavier now, her thighs spreading around her front skirt as the warmth began to settle into her groin. She moved her lower body with the warmth, grinding her pelvis into Jabba's belly, and even when Jabba's hands lifted away, she continued the motion.

There were cheers and cries and frantic grunts as Leia humped Jabba's belly, playing with her breasts, governed by the sensations that he had awakened in her. His flesh squished and squelched thickly with her hips' every move, and she began panting as she felt something creep onto her left foot, then pull away. It returned to her leg, sliding against her calf as it moved by, and although her eyes flew open in confusion, she at last recognized the continuing motion against the back of her leg, and she closed her eyes again.

Jabba's hand slid back onto her hip, fat fingers probing under the fabric of her rear skirt. Leia moaned as she felt his hand slip beneath the lower curve of her bare buttock, gripping it firmly as she continued to hump.

The moving object tickled the flesh of Leia's leg as it slid upward—and she whimpered faintly as the end of the Hutt's massive tail continued traveling up her ankle, up her calf, past her knee, along her thigh, and up, up…_up_.

Jabba's tail continued to slide slowly up her bare leg, over her knee, the probing member parting the soft flesh of her inner thighs, sending chills through her body. She inhaled until she was sure her lungs were going to burst.

_Oh, Force-!_

As the tail found its destination, Leia rocked her head back, gazing up at the ceiling as her mouth stretched wide open…and gave voice to her surrender.


	6. Chapter 6: No Longer a Princess

Chapter 6: No Longer a Princess

Leia's voice cracked with a final groan, and then she pitched forward, her naked upper body landing against Jabba's flesh with a loud, wet _smack_, her chain jingling noisily. The side of her face met Jabba's drooling lips, but she didn't pull her head back, didn't even care. She stared at an empty expanse of wall beyond the throne, panting heavily, her slimy breasts heaving against Jabba's thick flesh, her heart thundering in her chest.

"AUNGHH!" She yelped aloud as the tip of Jabba's tail curled inside her, then squeezed her eyes shut and moaned as it slid back out, every ridged, heavily-muscled inch voiding her sore, still-pulsing flesh. She gasped for air, too exhausted to push herself away from Jabba—and, really, what would be the point in that?

"_Ho-ho-ho-ha-ha!_" Jabba laughed, his wobbling bulk rocking Leia upon him. His big hand released its grip on her right buttock—then smacked it painfully, and Leia groaned into his slimy chins. Jabba started laughing again, and the audience around them joined in. Leia squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the sting of tears as she panted and whimpered pathetically—then cried aloud again as Jabba delivered another firm smack to her butt.

She wanted to be mad, to hate him more than ever, for completely defiling her, for making her a complete mockery of her royalty and significance to the Rebellion…but she knew she couldn't blame him. Not this time.

_She_ had let him do this to her. _She_ hadn't tried to stop him as his big member filled her. _She_ had spread her legs and pushed herself down until the curved tip of his tail was angled against his belly. _She_ had pressed her hands to his bulk and pushed herself upright. _She_ had moved her hips, her breasts bouncing and jiggling and slapping up against Jabba's slimy rolls, her chain jingling noisily under her breathy moans with each buck and hump.

_She_ had known _exactly_ what she was doing. He had defiled her, yes…but she had _let_ him. She had nobody else to blame—_she had defiled herself_.

#

"Dismount," Jabba said, his laughter now reduced to belly-quaking chuckles, and although Leia was relieved to unclencth the hunk of belly-flesh between her damp thighs, she still felt the sting of embarrassment at the fact that she was only doing so _now_…after he had _commanded_ her to. Blushing deeply, she averted her eyes as she pressed her hands to Jabba's upper belly and pushed her naked upper body back and upright, flinching at the strings of slime that stretched, drooped, and broke between her breasts and his flabby chins. She leaned to her left as she lifted her right leg away from Jabba's belly, then straightened as she got to her feet—and wobbled unsteadily, throwing her arms out to steady herself, her slimy breasts jiggling unflatteringly.

Her crotch was throbbing painfully, and she risked pushing aside part of her front skirt to peer at herself—then gasped when she saw the scarlet streaks that had mixed in with the rest of the fluid that glistened on her thighs.

_Bastard_, she thought, her eyes stinging with tears. _Bastard…_

She peered up at Jabba, who had turned his attention back to the remaining food heaped on the tray beside him. As he scooped up another handful of slop and lifted it to his mouth, his huge, orange eyes turned on her, narrowing as he licked the food off his hand. "You—" he paused to slurp thickly, "—may dress, unless you _wish_ to stay naked for me…"

Leia knew of course that she would do no such thing—but she hesitated, nonetheless. She watched as Jabba stuffed another hunk of now-cool mashed roots into his mouth, a thick gob tumbling down his chins. She turned her head and looked for Bib, who was talking to a pale-skinned Twi'lek slave. Nearby, a Gammorean guard was waddling by. Leia turned her body and peered, her slimy breasts on full display for the audience…but nobody was even paying attention anymore.

_So this is it_, Leia thought. This was what Jabba had been working towards, what he wanted of her. If he didn't sell her to the Empire…_this_ would be the life that he would give her.

_But Luke is coming_, she had to remind herself—and although she knew this was a positive fact in more ways than one…she didn't feel the same thrill of hope that she once had.

No matter what happened, no matter how far she would ever get from this place…she knew that she would never be able to go back and undo what had been done—what _she_ had done. She wouldn't be able to take back what she had given.

Given…to _him_.

Willingly.

_Like a_—

No.

_No._

She refused to allow herself to even _comprehend_ the thought that had invaded her mind.

With a heavy, angry sigh, she crouched and snatched up her discarded top.

#

Jabba puffed from his hookah as he watched her dress. He pulled her back into his embrace after, taking a big drag from the long, metal pipe. "You enjoyed that, _Leia khankee_," Jabba cooed, smoke drifting from his mouth as he lowered the hookah. It wasn't a question.

Leia looked away, blushing angrily as the acrid smoke from his hookah stung her sinuses. She knew he wasn't _wrong_, but—

"Admit it, girl." Leia threw a glare at him as he added, "Tell me."

Leia swallowed hard, clenching her jaw. _Just get it over with_, she thought, and quietly did.

"What?" Jabba purred, one eye narrowing.

She took a heavy breath, her breasts heaving into his slimy rolls. "I…I enjoyed it, _Master_," she said aloud.

"You enjoyed _what?_"

"I enjoyed…what you did to me, Ma—_ Ow!_"

Jabba's hand had delivered a smack against her backside so swiftly, so unexpectedly, that it had caught Leia off-guard. Her hips had jumped forward into his belly, her chain jingling noisily.

"Still such a prude. Specify."

Leia's hands balled into fists where they rested against the upper slopes of Jabba's belly. She hadn't cursed much in her lifetime, but she knew already that now would be one such rare instance. "I enjoyed…_fucking_ you," she spat, and then, "Master."

"Ooo_oooaahh_," Jabba belched, and his hand, which had been pressed over her bare buttocks, gave them a double-pat, to which Leia tensely clenched them together. "_Tooma Leia khankee..._."

_My good little Slave Leia_.

The thought of being called that, of answering to such a degrading and sexually objectifying name, after all that he'd done to her—made her do _for_ him—set her skin crawling. But then again, if that was how he wanted to think of her—if that would keep him satisfied enough that she was so weakly surrendering to his ways that he would remain distracted from any suspicions of the tables being turned…then answering to "Slave Leia" was, realistically, quite worth the humiliation.

"You _do_ realize why you enjoy this so much," Jabba said. _Do enlighten me_, Leia thought, but said nothing as she glared into his eyes. "It is a contrast. It is not anything you have ever been used to. Your clean, wealthy upbringing has sheltered you. _Hidden_ you. But I have found you. I have touched you. I have _claimed_ you. _You are mine, girl._"

Leia's jaw clenched at this, but she continued to remain silent, even as he licked her face.

"I have taken many a slave in the past," Jabba continued. "Most resist, at first. Some persist, and prove worthless to me. But most learn their places. Most give themselves to me. I know the signs of surrender…and you, Slave Leia, are showing those signs."

_Liar_. He was trying to manipulate her, to trick her into thinking she was weaker than she thought. He had no such control over her. What she had done had been her own doing, her own choice. She was no slave. She was Leia Organa…

…_and I fucked him_.

The thought was invasive, almost painful.

_I fucked Jabba. Just as he wanted me to. _Because _he wanted me to_.

But, she countered herself_, that had been her choice!_ _She_ had given her body to him. _She_ had given in to her body's powerful responses to his knowledgeable touch. That had all been _her_ decision to make, _her_ power to yield…_hers_ to provide.

_And that was _exactly_ what _he_ wanted._

_He_ had _wanted_ her to fuck him…and she had done so.

Her choosing to do that didn't mean he'd controlled her, that he'd _claimed_ her…right?

_Right?_

Leia shuddered in his arms then, but she was almost grateful that it occurred just as he began to lick her face again. She couldn't show him weakness…not like this. Not now.

_Luke, wherever you are, _she thought into the either, please_ tell me everything is still going to be alright_.

But even if he somehow heard her, he didn't reply.

#

That evening, after telling a couple of bounty hunters to be on the lookout for some kind of assassin that may have been lurking in the palace, he gave a single, hard yank on Leia's chain. She hopelessly assumed the slave's embrace, and he didn't waste any time.

Halfway through his oral assault upon her face and chest, he commanded her to strip. As she was still removing her top, his huge tongue slurped at her half-revealed breasts and working hands. She pulled her top away with a disgusted groan, and his tongue began running in slimy circles around her stiffening nipples, making her moan breathily. Then he slipped his hand behind her front skirt, and Leia heard herself moan again, louder, as his thick finger filled her.

She wanted to blame her exhausted state for her easy responses, but her denial was quickly lost to the building stimulation that he was once again creating inside her, the sensations traveling through her torso, into her arms, into her legs, which began to spread and crouch as she moved her hips with his hand, grinding her pelvis against his belly.

As she began to pant and moan, feeling the seconds counting down until her bodily reactions got the best of her once again, Jabba then removed his fat digit, and Leia blushed deeply when she heard herself moan at the sudden kiss of cold air upon her sex.

Jabba then commanded her to "take the rest off," and after all else that she had done, all else that the audience had already seen, after all the dignity she had already sacrificed…did it really matter, now, if she presented herself in full?

Swallowing the last vestiges of her pride, Leia pulled back from Jabba, pushed the elastic-lined gold bands down the curves of her hips, and let gravity do the rest. She ignored the rising voices of the audience as she began to lift a leg to remove her boot—but then he yanked her chain, and she quickly lowered her foot and moved back into his waiting arms.


	7. Chapter 7: Displays of Power

Chapter 7: Displays of Power

Leia awoke to a disorientingly familiar voice. "You will take me to Jabba _now_."

She opened her eyes, glancing up at the frog-bowl beside her, and listened carefully.

"_I will take you to Jabba now_," Bib's voice repeated, sounding half-asleep.

Leia knew better than to have baseless hope, and yet the presence she felt was so strong that she knew exactly what it meant. She sat slowly up before Jabba, and her hopes were realized when the majordomo led a black-cloaked figure into the room.

She suppressed the urge to grin, for she knew that her situation is far from over. Yet here before her was her hope, her savior—and her friend.

_I stayed alive_, Leia thought.

_And we will be alright_, came the response, and Luke met her gaze.

Staring into his eyes, Leia felt a chill; it took her a moment to realize it wasn't due to the cool air traveling over her exposed flesh.

_Oh, Force! _She glanced down at her half-naked body, at the long, thick, green tail that slithered and wiggled sleepily beside her bare thigh, and at the lizard-monkey sitting in the thick, coiled base of that tail. Blushing deeply, Leia looked back up at Luke. He'd been like a brother to her for so long now; what he must think of her, like this? He'd told her to stay alive, and she had...but at such a degrading and demoralizing cost. And now, after all she'd been put through—after all the things she'd done, the horrible, terrible things _she'd done!_—to be seen like _this_…

_Don't worry_, Luke's Force-voice said, and although Leia felt somewhat reassured, she still felt her cheeks burn as the young Jedi's eyes lifted from hers. _You did what you had to_.

There was a rustle of clothing and the shuffle of sandals as Bib Fortuna climbed up onto the throne and moved beside Jabba. Throughout the chamber, sleeping cronies and criminals began to stir awake to behold the newcomer. Several whispered hoarsely in recognition of Luke, no doubt from his holographic message.

"At last!" Threepio exclaimed from nearby; and Leia felt an absurd combination of annoyance and relief. The droid had finally been permitted to return to the audience chamber at some point in the night from whatever tasks he'd been sent off to do. "Master Luke has come to rescue me!" he added hopefully, and more of the crowd awoke at this.

"Master," Bib said, and there was an enormous, phlegmy groan and the greasy squelch of folds of sticky flesh stretching and shifting as Jabba started awake behind her. She glared at the throne as she felt the cushions shift behind her as Jabba stirred, and the chain that kept her by his side jingled as the shadows of his short, chubby arms moved over her.

_Luke, _what_ are you planning?_ Leia thought, tensing. No reply came, however; he simply stared right at the Hutt above and behind her.

"This is Luke Skywalker," Bib said, and Leia glared up at him as he spoke, then right back down at the throne before her as she felt the tip of Jabba's tail brush her lower hip. "Jedi Knight," she heard the majordomo add, almost reverently.

Leia tensed as she felt the chain lift from where it was touching the back of her shoulder, tightening in the air; steeling herself against the inevitable _yank_ the Hutt would make upon it, sooner or later.

She listened as the chain jingled with Jabba's gesturing arm as he bellowed in a groggy voice, "I _warned_ you not to admit him!"

"I must be allowed to speak," Luke said in a firm, even tone.

"He must be allowed to speak," Bib repeated, and despite her escalating tension, Leia felt herself grin inwardly as she realized what was going on.

Jabba, however, was not so amused.

As expected, a quick tug on the chain came, and Leia threw a glare over her shoulder, praying Jabba wouldn't make her do anything in front of Luke.

"_Ooooaaah_," the Hutt growled in annoyance, and there was a grunt and the rustle of cloth, likely from some kind of physical outburst he was making upon Bib. "You weak-minded fool!" Beside her, the lizard-monkey began cackling. "He's using an old _Jedi mind trick!" __Leia heard Bib cry_out and grunt in pain as he fell—or was thrown—onto the floor beside the throne.

Luke stepped forward, and lifting his hands, he pulled his hood back. Leia had never seen him look as cool, determined, and _powerful_, as he did now. "You will bring Captain Solo and the Wookie to me."

"_Ho-_ho-ho-ho-ho!" Jabba laughed. "_Hah-_hah-hah-hah-hyeaaiii…."

Luke briefly met Leia's gaze, then moved back up to the Hutt's as his laughter stopped.

Hearing the chain links jingle behind her as they were pulled taut, Leia tensed. "Your _mind powers_ will not work on me, _boy_," Jabba said, pulling slowly back on the chain. Leia refused to let Luke see her act as…she had been for the past couple of days. As the collar tightened, she braced herself, tightening her abdomen and trying to lean away from the Hutt, but as the collar dug painfully into her throat, she closed her eyes, her lips parting as she silently gasped for air, feeling herself tipping back—but he mercifully slackened the chain, and straightening, she let her breath out and opened her eyes.

"Nevertheless," Luke said, stepping slowly closer to the throne, and several guards crept in behind him. "I'm taking Captain Solo, _and_ his friends. You can either profit by this...or be destroyed." He waited a moment, and when no interruption or response came, he added, "It's your choice, but I warn you not to underestimate my powers."

Jabba snorted and growled at this, his amusement gone.

"Master Luke!" Threepio snapped. "You're standing on a—"

"_BAH!_" Jabba snarled, and before Leia could ponder the terrifying question of what Threepio had tried to say, the Hutt delivered a quick, hard _yank_ on her chain. She blinked and gagged as she felt herself pitch backwards, but was able to catch herself on her outflung arms before Luke had to witness her weakly falling back upon the Hutt's huge belly. "There will be no bargain, _young Jedi_," the Hutt barked, and Leia was able to sit upright again. "I shall enjoy watching you _die...__."_

Leia's eyes widened, and as the Hutt began laughing, she looked helplessly back up at him, wondering what he was planning to do.

Then a lot happened, and fast.

Luke ducked and threw out his arm, and from across the room, something flew right to his open hand—a blaster!

There were gasps and screams, and Jabba bellowed "Aaagh! _Boscka!" _as Luke raised the gun before him, pointing it right at the Hutt—

Then there was a heavy _thump_ behind Leia, and something shook the throne. Leia gasped as Luke and the surrounding guards all started where they stood, and then suddenly Luke was falling straight down, and as he did, he fired the pistol up at the ceiling, sparks and shattered stone raining down before the throne. Leia cried out as Luke disappeared into a black space that had appeared before the throne, yawning open as the trapdoor opened wider, and a Gammorean guard squealed and cried as he tumbled down after Luke.

"Luke!" Leia cried, and a second later, a hand seized her arm. In a panic, she glared up and saw it was Lando. She wanted to ask him what was going on, to _scream_ at him, to know where the _hell_ he'd been all this time—but the look in his eyes stopped any further thought. He shook his helmeted head, and then there was another tremble in the throne-and she suddenly realized it was moving.

Likely powered by repulsorlift coils, the throne moved slowly forward as the trapdoor swung back up, sealing safely beneath it. Lando stepped back, and Leia ignored Jabba's tail as it slithered and flopped against her backside.

"The great Jedi!" Jabba was chortling gleefully behind Leia. "The great _Jedi!_"

Leia watched in confused terror as a wide section of floor before the throne seemed to drop down and slide back into itself like a puzzle piece, and when the thick metal grating appeared beneath it, she realized in horror just what it was: a hidden _window, _pointing straight down.

As the throne came to a wiggling stop, making Leia sway where she sat, she leaned forward and looked down. The space beneath was massive, illuminated only by the light from the audience chamber above. Ragged stone walls had been cut away in one section, where a massive metal door began to move—

The collar tightened, and Leia reached up and grabbed it as she was forced upright. _No, no, __no!__, _she thought desperately, trying to pry enough of the collar free of her throat to breathe. _Not__ now…!_

Still bellowing his booming laughter, Jabba tugged harder on the chain, forcing Leia to rock back just as everyone began shouting and cheering around her.

Her heart pounding, Leia realized with horror that whatever was behind that huge metal door in the pit below was now in full view to them, and only by an act of sheer will was she able to keep herself upright long enough for Jabba to become distracted by whatever was going on below.

Jabba slackened the chain enough for her to lean forward again, but when she looked down through the grating, she seemed to only see a mass of dark brown movement beyond it, and realized with horror that something enormous was very much _alive_ down there.

She noticed more movement then. Somewhere beyond the giant brown behemoth, a dark figure—no, _two_ dark figures, and she now remembered the fallen guard-were hugging the walls of the pit. The massive brown shape changed as a long, thin arm extended, and it grabbed at one of the shapes—

"_Lu_—" Leia blurted, then held her tongue as she recognized the squirming figure of the guard being clutched in the monster's paw. It was horrifying to watch the squealing Gammorean being lifted to the monster's face, and cringing, Leia turned away from the feeding monster, hearing the horrible, wet _crunching_ sounds ended.

Jabba uttered a long, thrilled cry—the guard was dead, and now only Luke remained. Leia forced herself to look back down, and gasped, eyes widening.

As if things couldn't possibly get any worse, the monster began to lift another figure toward itself—Luke! He seemed to be holding something long and pale, a stick or, more likely, a bone, swinging it towards the monster as it angled its head, preparing to eat him. Cringing, Leia squeezed her eyes shut to the cheering cacophony.

For a wildly selfish moment, Leia almost wished that Jabba _would_ pull the chain, to pull her back and make it more difficult for her to have to witness what was going on below. If she had to watch Luke die, she may well go mad with despair—and she realized that, without doubt, this was _precisely_ why he was leaving her free to watch. The Hutt _wanted_ to instill as much fear as possible into her, to torment her watching one of her friends—and her last hope at freedom from him—perish.

_No! _Leia urged herself. _Don't be a coward! Luke isn't one, nor should you be!_

Forcing open her eyes, she leaned forward. She just managed to watch as Luke ran into a cramped corner somewhere on the far end of the pit, and as the crowd grew louder, the chain tightening, Jabba's tail brushing her bare thigh as it flipped and flopped excitedly about, Leia began to realize that, in all likelihood…this was the—

Then there was a small explosion and a shower of sparks from somewhere in the darkness below, and the grind and squeal of metal, followed by a floor-vibrating _thud _and a thunderously loud, beastly cry—and then, sudden, strange _silence_.

All around, the crowd grew still, and Leia looked up to see them all staring, wide-eyed and frowning, all deadly quiet.

There was no way that Luke's death could have done this...

"_No, no! AAAGH!_" Jabba cried, and Leia knew exactly what had happened.

Somehow, Luke had killed the monster!

Feeling tears hit her eyes as Jabba cursed and bellowed behind her. She began to grin, to snicker, to laugh uncontrollably at her renewed hope—

_YANK!_

Jabba tugged the chain _very_ hard then, and with a choked cry, Leia fell back on his fleshy belly, the sound of her impact lost in the racket of the outraged, horrified, cries of the audience around her. As Jabba began barking orders, Leia took the opportunity to sit upright again, but then Jabba tugged again, harder, choking her. Grabbing the collar and shaking her head, Leia fought against her cruel captor, but Jabba was too strong for her, and kept her pinned to his belly as he shouted, "Bring me Captain Solo and the Wookiee! They will _all_ pay for this outrage!"

As several guards scattering to obey—including Lando—Leia gagged and kicked her bare legs about, trying to allow some kind of slack on the chain.

"_Talk droid!_" Jabba spat, and Threepio came meekly over as Jabba commanded him to translate. As he spoke, he slackened the chain enough for Leia to awkwardly push herself back and sit upright, coughing and gagging...but then she faltered, her eyes widening as she listened to just what he wanted Threepio to say. Her heart sank; she was mortified. There was no way the Hutt was telling the truth, was there? Surely, he was exaggerating the notion of—

Jabba gave a warning tug to the chain, and Leia tensed as she felt his hand drop to her bare shoulder. "Worry not, _slave_," he said with playful cruelty, rubbing his hand around. "_You're_ not going anywhere..." She set her jaw as he did this, and tried to pull away—but he held her chain firmly as he rubbed his hand about, his fat fingertips uncomfortably brushing over the softer flesh of her upper chest.

A moment later, a familiar voice broke in: "Han!" Luke was being brought in from one door, and following his gaze, Leia looked—and suppressed a grin.

"_Luke!_" Han, very much alive and looking far better than he had when she'd freed him from his carbonite prison—was being shoved into the audience chamber, and Chewie was right behind him!

Once again, Leia suddenly became self-conscious of how she must look, half-naked and chained before Jabba. She made a show of increasing her effort to pull away, but he held the chain taut, and she squirmed, cringing, as he began to rub his hand around over her shoulder and upper chest.

"Are you alright?" Luke called to Han as they were pushed toward each other before the throne, and it took Leia a moment to realize that the floor had sealed shut again.

"Fine," Han said. "Together again, huh?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

As much as Leia would normally enjoy their banter, she was too distracted by Jabba's big hand as it slid uncomfortably far down her upper chest. She strained to her left to keep away from him, but his groping hand followed.

"Where's Leia?" she heard Han ask, and figured he must still be blind. Recalling how she'd felt when Luke had first entered, she thought, _Maybe that's better, for now_.

"I'm here!" she blurted between tugs on the chain.

"_Now_, talk droid. Tell them!" Jabba barked, finally lifting his hand from Leia's shoulder, and she stared on in petrified horror.

"Oh, dear…" Threepio said, turning to the prisoners standing before the throne. "His High Exaltedness, the great Jabba the Hutt, has decreed that you are to be terminated…immediately."

"Good, I hate long waits," Han muttered.

Beside Leia, the lizard-monkey cackled loudly.

Threepio continued: "You will therefore be taken to the Dune Sea and cast into the pit of Carkoon, the nesting place of the all-powerful Sarlacc."

She heard the unmistakable slop of Jabba's tongue as he licked his lips. He tugged her chain, and she closed her eyes as she rocked where she sat—but it was just a halfhearted yank, and she glared out of the corner of her eye as she leaned forward again.

"In its belly," Threepio continued, "you will find a new definition of pain and suffering, as you are slowly digested over a...thousand years."

So there it was; what Jabba had told Threepio to say was true, after all.

Leia sat there, petrified; what could they possibly do, _now?_

"On second thought, let's pass on that, huh?" Han said, his humor lost to the grim look on his face.

To counter the air of sarcasm, Luke said, "You should've bargained, Jabba."

With the air of finality, Jabba commanded, "Take them away!"

Guards began to usher Han, Luke, and Chewie away, and as the crowd began to mill and move towards the exit, Luke glared back at Jabba and called out, grinning confidently, "That's the last mistake _you'll _ever make."

Jabba laughed at this, and as the crowd began to file out through the arched doorways, there came another firm _yank_ on the chain. Leia didn't resist this time; she didn't even try. With a choked gasp, she fell back upon his belly, hearing as well as feeling the meaty _plop_ of his gelatinous flesh as her bare back slapped upon it, her head nestled into a dimple in its upper slope. She barely even paid attention as the Hutt's hand returned to her shoulder and began to rub it again, and nearby, the lizard-monkey began cackling louder. She could only stare after the crowd as they exited the audience chamber, and with them, her last hope.

#

As the crowd in the audience chamber began to thin out, Jabba gave an upward tug on the chain, briefly choking Leia. She sat forward, turned onto her knees, and rose before Jabba…then stopped herself.

_Oh, Force, what am I _doing?

Han, Luke, and Chewbacca were all about to be _killed!_ There was clearly no hope for them, at this point. Negotiations had failed, bargains had failed, and of course, her own foolish plan had failed—_spectacularly_. There was _no_ reason for her to keep up appearances, to give Jabba the satisfaction of degrading and dominating her.

But because of that, she reasoned, what would be the point of doing anything else?

The time to resist him, to play against his desires, was over. He had won. She and her friends had lost. And they were about to pay for their opposition with their lives. Lando would not flee like a coward, and would likely perish in any attempt at trying to rescue them. The droids would continue to be used as laborers in Jabba's palace.

And as for Leia? Well, what else _was_ left for her?

Jabba had stripped her of more than her clothes and her dignity. He'd peeled back layers of her spirit and exploited what he found, deep down inside. He'd gotten her to—

Jabba growled faintly, and she took a heavy breath, then stepped slowly forward.

Leia had watched her home world detonate into oblivion. Her family had died with Alderaan. She was, indeed, no longer a Princess. And when she had failed to rescue Han, she had failed as a Rebel, as a friend, and as a lover. She was…nothing.

She stepped forward and pressed her half-naked body into his embrace. She spread her legs and curled her hips inward, snugging her pelvis firmly into place against his big belly. She leaned forward, feeling his thick, soft flesh pressing against every inch of her naked stomach, until the fronts of her breasts pushed into his squishy, slime-dribbled chins.

And yet here she was, still alive. She had a new kind of purpose, a new worth…for Jabba. And she had proven as much when she had given her body to him—had _willingly surrendered_ to his power over her.

She had _already_ submitted to his ways. She just hadn't realized it until now.

Jabba chuckled wetly, his fleshy rolls jiggling against her half-naked body. Then his huge maw opened wide before her, spilling his rank, hot breath and thick, runny saliva. Leia watched his huge, slimy tongue slop out and stretch down toward her breasts, then closed her eyes.

She would give him what he wanted. She had no reason to do anything else. She _had_ nothing else. She would obey him. She would serve him. She would satisfy him.

He was her Master Jabba.

And she was his Slave Leia.


	8. Chapter 8: Master's Good Little Slave

Chapter 8: Master's Good Little Slave

As the crowd in the Audience Chamber began to thin out, so did the volume of the room. The excited shouts, hoots, and chatters began to soften as most of the remaining spectators moved into the hallways and passages of the palace. Within minutes, the space was largely devoid of personnel and sound—but several remained behind, and the Chamber was all but silent.

Breathy cries, moans, whimpers, gasps, and pants filled the air, as did a series of metallic jingles, clinks, and clanks. A loud, deep rumble and groan occasionally punctuated the cacophony of overwhelmed vocals and rattling metal pieces. And underneath it all was the inconsistent but continuous rhythm of wet, fleshy squelches.

The few remaining Chamber-dwellers were all staring toward the center of the space. A few of them were grinning, but a couple of them were open-mouthed, breathing heavily—and one of them, a man, was not-too-subtly working his hands at the lower half of his robes.

And in the middle of the room, upon the throne, Slave Leia fucked her Master Jabba.

He clutched her squirming, naked form against his big belly, his bulk jiggling and wobbling. "_Huuuaghhh_…" he groaned satisfactorily, one big hand resting above her bare buttocks, his other clutching her chain, keeping it taut, no doubt to stop her from any sudden changes of heart in which she would attempt to pull away.

She knew he didn't have to worry, however. She had no intention of going anywhere.

She moaned and whimpered, her back arched, shoulders flexing. Between her outstretched arms, her naked breasts, slimy and sticky with copious smears of slime, heaved and jiggled in the air. Her lower body ground and rammed into a deep dimple of his huge belly, her long legs were spread, thighs clutching and squeezing around a fat hunk of fat—as well as the end of his tail, its tip disappearing between their joined lower bodies.

Once again, his enormous appendage was penetrating Leia's sex deeply and painfully, setting her teeth on edge, but as it flexed and stretched, growing ridged and thick and narrow and smooth up inside of her, stimulating her in ways that no man's penis could ever conceivably rival, Slave Leia uttered another terrific cry, quickly scaling the heights of her pleasure, and began to fuck Jabba faster—and harder.

Her Master's hand lifted from her backside, only to _slap_ terrifically against it, and Slave Leia hoarsely howled. He smacked her ass again, her breasts bouncing, smacking wetly against her master's drool-covered chins. His hand lifted again, and she tensed, waiting for yet another impact—

Then his hand touched the side of her face, and her eyes fluttered open as she turned to him, a confused sound escaping her open lips…only to be met with a fat finger that curled thickly into her mouth.

Slave Leia began to turn her head and pull back, but Jabba's hand followed. "No," he snarled, and she realized what he wanted.

Her hips went still as she turned to face him fully. She stared into his huge eyes as she opened her lips wider and leaned her head in, taking his fat digit into her mouth before wrapping her lips around its base, sucking it like he wanted.

"_Tooma Leia khankee_," Master Jabba purred, and she sucked harder, feeling his fat finger beginning to withdraw. It popped out of her lips, a string of saliva stretching and snapping in the air, and she watched him lower his hand…and smirked as she pulled her pelvis back from his gut enough to give him room.

Slave Leia resumed humping his tail and belly, and as his wet finger found her cunt, she rolled her head back and groaned terrifically.

It took only the work of another minute before she came. Her voice cracked, her overwhelmed mouth forming silent cries before a hard ream of Jabba's tail reamed it out of her. Her whole body bucked a final time, the chain jingling loudly, and then she flopped forward against him with a fleshy, slimy impact, moaning and panting.

The onlookers were not dissatisfied. A couple of them turned, snickering, to join the rest of the departed crowd. The man continued to work at the front of his robes, his breath coming in quick, sharp gasps now, and as Jabba's tail voided his slave's pussy, liquid squirting and dripping onto his belly and her knees, the man grunted and shuddered, then sheepishly exited.

#

From out of the last leg of the palace's labyrinth of corridors, Jabba's throne emerged into the bright lights of his palace's cavernous hangars, where the crowds were gathering and filing and onto a number of land skiffs—and something far, far larger.

Upon his throne, Slave Leia lifted her head, her eyes narrowing in the bright lights, then slowly widening again at what they beheld.

The Sail Barge, as Jabba had called it, was a massive hovercraft, its deck crowned with three huge, red canopies that did bear some resemblance to the sails of a boat. Its massive engines were roaring, and it was already afloat, yet even more deep thrumming sounds arose as more of its workings came to life.

Just then, she briefly thought she saw Luke, Han, and Chewie in the far reaches of the hangar, but the milling crowd was so thick they were quickly lost before her eyes could focus, and she sighed.

Then came a firm yank came on the chain. Gagging and rocking back, Slave Leia forced herself to her feet and shoved her half-naked body against her master's body.

"_Mmmhhhh..._" Jabba grumbled, his hand cupping the curves of her backside. Realizing her lower body was too far away, she dutifully curled her hips forward, pressing her pelvis even more firmly into the front of his belly. His other, chain-wielding hand lowered and pressed to her hip, the cold metal links against her skin making her shiver against him. His huge maw opened, his slimy chins rubbing down along her breasts, and she held her breath as his huge tongue began to slide out of its slimy cave—

"Jabba!" someone shouted.

Jabba's eyes lifted to the crowd behind her, looking fairly annoyed as his tongue retracted, and his mouth began to shut as the voice came again.

"Master Jabba!"

She turned her head to identify the caller, and out of the bustling crowd, the red-haired dancer appeared, moving up beside the throne and bowing. "Master Jabba?"

"What is it, Arica?" Jabba grumbled, clearly annoyed at the interruption.

Arica moved up to the throne and leapt atop it with such grace and ease that, for a moment, it almost appeared as if she'd floated up. "I would like to offer myself to you for the voyage."

Slave Leia frowned at this.

"I do not need you for this, Arica." Jabba's doughy, dribble-covered chins squashed and rubbed against Leia's breasts as he spoke. "It is a very important trip for _this_ one." He patted her backside.

"So, I could come, too!" Arica said, and Leia saw her move closer in the corner of her vision. Something didn't seem quite _right_ about her, but she couldn't quite place it. "Besides, you know how, ah..._cooperative_ I can be…"

Leia gasped as she felt Arica's slender arm slip around her lower waist, right above Jabba's groping hand. Before she could even think about what the loaded statement could mean, Arica pressed her body beside hers, assuming her own slave's embrace against the Hutt—and _her_. Although Arica's skin was far warmer than Jabba's, Leia still shivered when she felt the other woman's exposed flesh come into contact with her own—and she felt a plummeting feeling in her stomach when she realized exactly what was going on.

Leia's breath died in her lungs as Arica's pretty, freckled face moved inexorably closer to her own, her lips parting and dark green her eyes slowly closing. She had never touched another woman before, had not even kissed one out of anything other than a friendly or familial show of affection. However, she knew that there was little, if anything, that she could do. Jabba was her master, now—and if he wished for her to be intimate with another woman, then so be it.

Slave Leia twisted her upper body toward Arica as she pressed in closer. She took a quick breath as she felt a soft breast press against her own, a bare thigh sliding up by her hip. She parted her lips as she watched Arica's own move closer, and when she felt warm breath upon her mouth, she closed her eyes, began to lean in and open her mouth wider—

"Not _now_, _Arica_ _khankee__!_" Jabba snarled, and Leia opened her eyes in time to see Arica, her lips parted, turning her too-close head to glare at Jabba. "I do _not_ want you with us for this trip. That is a _command_, girl."

"But Jabba—"

"_Go_, Arica."

With an annoyed sigh, Arica's leg and arm disappeared from around Leia. The slave pulled away so quickly that Jabba's greasy blubber made a dull _slurp_ as it separated from her flesh. Arica stood back, her clothes soiled by his slime, and glared at Leia as she turned away. Leia felt a shiver travel through her body, causing the flabs of Jabba's rolls massed around her chest to wobble. Arica stepped into the crowd and vanished from sight, and Leia let out a heavy breath, hearing her heart thump heavily in her heaving chest.

Although no Force user, Jabba practically read her mind, for he chuckled and purred to her, "A _most_ worthwhile offer, but I would hate to be _distracted_ from the main event. Your slave-sister is a bit..._enthusiastic_." He chuckled, his flesh wobbling again. "Come to think of it, _she_ started out just as feisty as you! But she learned her place in time—just as you will, _Leia_ _khankee_..."

His huge, dripping tongue emerged again, and it wasn't to be stopped this time. Leia flinched and closed her eyes as his tongue stretched toward her, feeling slime drip onto her exposed upper chest. His hand squeezed her backside through her rear skirt, and she groaned softly as his tongue met her face.

"And perhaps—" he paused to lick her cheek, "—once we return to the palace—" he ran his dripping tongue alongside her jaw, "—I shall more _formally_—" he slurped at her neck, "—introduce you to her, and to your other slave-sisters..."

Even after all she'd already been exposed to, all she'd experienced, Slave Leia realized that what Jabba had in store for her had only just begun. There was so much more awaiting her, after…

Her breath hitched for a moment, and she opened her eyes, staring up at the red sails overhead. Then he began to lick at her cleavage, and her eyes closed again as she moaned softly, leaning forward to lose herself in his touch once again.

#

Leia's escape was short-lived, however. Jabba stopped licking her as they finally boarded the barge, and released her as he maneuvered his throne deep into the craft. He slapped his hand upon the base of his tail and commanded her to sit, and she quickly obeyed. As he parked his throne upon the floor, his pet lizard-monkey jumped from the throne and scuttled off to some far corner. The sounds of other vehicles exiting the hangar made Leia's heart sink even deeper into her chest.

_This is it, _she thought hopelessly. _This is really it…_

When they finally departed the palace, Jabba opened the barge's multitude of windows. Despite the fans blowing all around them, the hot air sweeping through the barge was still sweltering. Leia rocked and bounced unsteadily where she sat upon her master's tail, staring at the glare from the windows.

Jabba must have been watching her, for he gave her chain a quick tug. Tensing, she turned to find him waving a chunky arm at the windows. "Go look, if you wish. Take a last look at the life you leave behind, before we celebrate your new one…with _me_."

Her sinking heart was forgotten as he abruptly threw a section of the slackened chain toward her, the metal links noisily landing upon the throne beside her feet, but guardedly took up his offer. She stood and jumped off of the throne, then walked across the floor to the nearest set of windows.

She gazed out at the huge, orange hills of sand as they rolled by, taking a deep breath of the hot, but amazingly _fresh_, air. She let the breeze of the two-sun desert dry the slime on her face and chest, and she unceremoniously wiped it off. When she looked up, she froze, for one of the land skiffs had appeared alongside the Sail Barge. Atop it stood a group of figures—a set of guards…and…

Amongst clusters of guards, she could see Han and Luke on the skiff. A moment later, another skiff appeared close behind it, carrying Chewie and Lando.

She lifted her left arm and pressed her hand to the window frame as she leaned closer, staring out at the skiff. She was half-aware of her collar beginning to tighten against her throat, but the chain remained silent and unmoving behind her neck. _Just give me a minute_, she prayed, staring out at her friends—

Her friends…who were on their way to their deaths.

The sound of jingling metal interrupted her, and she tensed, twisting back and glaring as the chain tightened. Back upon his throne, Master Jabba was staring at her, his eyes narrow as he wetly chuckled. He was holding a tall goblet, filled nearly to the top with dark wine, and beside him, Bib Fortuna was staring at her, grinning wickedly. She was relieved to realize that Jabba was speaking to Bib, no doubt gloating over his work upon her. She took the opportunity to resume looking out the window—one last look.

The life she was leaving behind, she had to remind herself. _That's not my life…not anymore._

She thought she could see Han's mouth moving. Luke turned to him and responded. She wondered what they were saying; no doubt their usual sarcasm-riddled banter, for even then Han inclined his head and said something out of the corner of his mouth in the way that even now made Leia feel an old, familiar warmth, deep down inside, buried beneath the twisted image that she had begun to have of herself—

Then the chain snapped as it was pulled again, _much_ harder this time, and she was yanked back from the window with a loud, half-choked gag. "_Haughh!_"

Slave Leia stumbled back to the throne, the chain producing a cacophony of metallic jangling before and beneath her as she struggled to keep her feet beneath her, her breasts bouncing gracelessly in her loosely-fitting top. "_Aungh_—!"

She nearly collided with the throne's front edge, and with an unexpected athletic reflex, she leapt up onto it; however, her momentum continued to throw her forward, and she threw her arms out to brace herself. _Auh__-unh!" she grunted, feeling her_ ponytail swing around to the front of her shoulder, catching between her breast and Jabba's flesh as she half-landed, half-climbed upon her master's enormous gut, trying to keep herself upright, ramming her lower body into his, her belly and thighs meeting his thick, doughy flesh with a moist, fleshly _plop._

Then something cool and soft pressed her between her shoulder blades—Bib hand. The majordomo had probably expected her to be more resistant after seeing her friends approach their demises, but Slave Leia did not fight back not even as he pushed her upper body closer, until her breasts were shoved into Jabba's flabby, warty, drool-covered chins. She had no reason to.

She craned her neck back and sighed in resignation, feeling the Hutt's warm breath, rank and foul with half-digested wine as it puffed down on her features.

"Soon, _my good little Slave Leia__…_" Jabba spoke in a gurgling purr, his thick rolls rubbing against her heaving breasts, and she turned and watched as his goblet moved closer to her face. As a few links of the chain clinked softly as they dropped down between their joined bodies, Jabba finished, "…you _will_ learn to appreciate me…"

Slave Leia looked back up at him, eyeing his huge, dribbling lips with a confusing mix of emotions.

Jabba slid his free hand over her left elbow, and Leia felt Bib's hand disappear from her shoulders, no doubt satisfied that she was staying put. Jabba moved the goblet closer to her face and cooed, "Wine, my pet?"

Leia tensed, remembering what had happened the last time he had offered her wine…but then, that had been before everything else, before he'd claimed her, before she'd given her body—and her will—to him… She looked back up into his eyes and nodded sheepishly—

A sudden clatter came, and she turned to see R2-D2 and C3-PO had literally run into one another; a tray had fallen behind R2, and with it, a number of glasses and bottles full of boozes he'd been serving. As the two droids bickered, she saw Bib climb off the throne to command several Jawas to clean up the mess. Leia silently thanked R2 for the momentary distraction**.**

Much to her surprise, he attempted no tricks, no "accidental" spills of the wine. He gave her a good sip from his goblet, licked her lips, and then grabbed a frog from his food bowl. Although she remained looking away, she had to listen as he stuffed the thrashing, squealing creature between his toothless gums. His flabby chins rubbed and squished around the fronts of her breasts as he slurped and swallowed his prey down, then belched horribly. The cloud of rank, warm miasma and thick droplets of debris and saliva that splattered over her features made her cringe and groan in disgust.

_I may be his slave_, she thought, _but I'm definitely _not_ going to get used to __this __anytime soon_.

His rank breath welling out upon her, Jabba began to lick her face. His huge tongue covered her face in saliva, then began to slide down her neck. Thick slime slowly oozed down the slopes of her heaving breasts and into her cleavage. She shuddered as unwelcome, unwanted, yet _undeniable_ sensations that traveled through her body. His tongue slopped onto her chest in big, lecherous slurps. He slowly slid one hand up her side as his other went down over her backside, and she gasped and closed her eyes as his tongue slid back up her neck, sending a chill through her body, and she shivered against him, her breath getting heavier—and faster.

"We still have a couple of hours before we arrive at the Pit of Carkoon," Jabba purred, his hand cupping around her right buttock, fat fingers touching the exposed flesh beneath as he rammed her lower body even closer, and she loosed a faint whimper as she surrendered to her building lust once again.

At his command, Slave Leia stripped for Jabba, and once again, he fucked her good and hard.

**#**

She had finished putting her costume back on when there was a crackle in the air. An announcement came over the loudspeakers hidden in the ceilings, falling silent only when she began to comprehend the message: the caravan was nearing the Pit of Carkoon.

Jabba moved a chubby arm for his throne's controls, maneuvering the throne closer to the windows. She took a heavy breath as she stared at him for a long moment, then slowly turned away.

She swallowed hard, listening as Jabba commanded the heavy metal window shades to be raised. Various creatures and henchmen moved to the windows as they began to open with metallic squeals. Boba Fett appeared, walking past the end of the throne to join the onlookers, and Leia felt her eyes sting with oncoming tears.

Her master maneuvered his throne closer to the windows, and she stepped to the its edge, watching the desert landscape outside slowing down, the golden shafts of sunslight washing over her body. In a matter of minutes, it dried the coatings of slime that remained on her exposed skin, and she brushed it off, unceremoniously reaching into her top to wipe at the slimy flesh beneath.

She could feel eyes upon her as she cleaned herself—Jabba's, no doubt, as well as others—but she didn't care. What did it matter, after all that they'd seen already…and what else they would be seeing, time and again, soon enough?

She felt tears sting her eyes, but quickly regained her composure, instead simply lowering her head as the sunslight dried her eyes.

So this was it. Her loved ones were going to die, and she was going to be Jabba's slave. Born into a royal background, raised on hope and strength, fighting the good fight against tyranny…all of that cast aside, because she had failed.

She had _failed_.

She'd failed her family. Failed her cause. Her mission. Her friends, and her loved ones.

And above all, she, Princess Leia Organa, had failed _herself_.

But, yes…she _was_ alive. Jabba was taking a lot from her, yes—but he had spared her life. He _had_ given her a new purpose, a new life.

She was his good little slave.


	9. Chapter 9: Unleashed

Chapter 9: Unleashed

The Sail Barge trembled as it came to a halt, and Slave Leia opened her eyes in time to watch the land skiffs positioning themselves in a great semicircle around the edges of a huge pit in the sand. She stepped to the edge of the throne, craning her neck to look down—and her eyes widened when she saw what lay at the bottom of the pit.

An enormous, brown cone of living flesh was nestled in the middle of the pit, its apex a ragged hole of leathery flaps. Staggered above it were concentric rings of hard flesh, each lined with downward-pointing spikes-undeniably fangs. Clusters of tentacles poked out of different points on the thing's periphery, sensing and recognizing the activity above, beckoning. The almighty Sarlacc was really a massive _mouth_ in the sand—and it was waiting for its next meal.

And directly above it, Luke, Han, and Chewie were being ushered to the edge of their skiff.

Leia balled her fists at her sides, her heart thundering. Fleeting hope and despair vied for her mounting anticipation as she watched her friends being prepared for—

_Be ready, came a voice in her head._

_Luke?_ Leia had to suppress a smile as his Force-voice entered her thoughts. She looked out across the Sarlacc and saw the Jedi being ushered onto a plank that was extending from the side of the skiff…and the corners of her lips curled down.

_Ready?_ She hoped Luke couldn't hear her thoughts.

Ready for what?

To watch him and the others die? To literally watch her old life perish…and her new life begin?.

She had a little doubt that Jabba's advances would quickly graduate into far more twisted, perverse, cruel, and even more loathsome actions. He would have Arica and other slaves "cooperate" with Leia, as promised by that tense episode back in the hangar. He would have his Slave Leia dance and strip for him. He would explore every square inch of her body with his tongue, hands, and tail. He would fuck her, again and again—and again and again, she would succumb to the sensation that he had awoken in her flesh, a sensation as powerful as it was primal: lust.

There had never been much lust in Slave Leia's old life, outside of occasional physical intimacy. But over a matter of days, the Hutt had drawn it out of her, bringing it to the surface of her body and soul—and was exploiting it for all it was worth.

How he had managed that was beyond her comprehension. After all, she'd only ever enjoyed sexual pleasure with _men_, not…

She found herself thinking about Jabba's tongue as it licked her breasts, the urgent grasp of his fingers upon her buttocks, the feeling of his fingers and tail up inside of her. She felt a horribly _warm _sensation form in the pit of her stomach and radiate out through the rest of her body, and she shivered with a resigned sigh.

Nearby, Threepio appeared, hefting a huge, heavy microphone. Jabba told him exactly what to say, and Slave Leia watched in dread as the droid moved before the windows.

"Victims of the almighty Sarlacc!" he said. "His excellency hopes that you will die...honorably. But should any of you wish to beg for mercy, the great Jabba the Hutt will now listen to your pleas."

"_Threepio_!" Han shouted, and the audience fell into amused silence. "_You tell that slimy piece of worm-ridden...filth, he'll get no such pleasure from us!_" As a collective chuckle arose, Slave Leia watched Han turn to Chewie and say something, to which the Wookee yowled.

"_Jabba!_" Luke called, stepping onto the plank. "_This is your last chance. Free us, or _die_._"

Jabba chortled thickly as Threepio handed him the microphone. "Move him into position!" he said, chuckling.

As a guard on the skiff pushed Luke towards the end of the plank, directly over the middle of the Sarlacc, Slave Leia's eyes widened.

_Oh, Luke_. Jedi or not, how could he possibly hope to back up such a boastful threat?

She bit her lower lip, waiting for the inevitable to unfold.

_Are you ready, Leia?__ came Luke's voice._

Slave Leia thought nothing back to him.

No, she would _never _be ready for this new life.

She licked and pursed her dry lips…and waited.

"_Put him in!_" Jabba bellowed, and Leia closed her eyes, her heart stopping.

This was it.

When Luke died, there would be no hope. Han and Chewie would follow. And if Lando attempted to intervene, he would of course be captured and killed as well. The Rebellion would lose several key members in one afternoon, and it was easy to imagine that the Empire would take advantage of this, and would find ways to ensure their power across the galaxy—and all of this, all of their struggles to free Han, would have been for naught.

_Now!_ Luke's Force-voice seemed to shout, and Leia opened her eyes—and gasped.

Luke was flying! At least, it appeared to be that way-he was flying through the air above the skiff, his body twisted in a graceful somersault as he easily cleared the heads of the confused guards beneath him, and the moment he landed between them, he raised an arm, his fingers extended. Something metallic glinted in the bright sunslight before his hand, and then lowering it, a green beam of energy appeared. No sooner had Leia recognized the _lightsaber_ for what it was than Luke had begun to expertly swing it around, cutting into and warding off the thugs around him, knocking one straight down into the Sarlaac's perpetually open mouth.

A frenzied chaos began to unfold around the throne as his guests panicked, trying to figure out what to do. Jabba was shouting his fury, confused and horrified by the sudden turn of tables; he gave a few accidental yanks on Leia's chain, briefly choking her. People were running and screaming, shouting and shaking their heads at each other, totally unprepared for the sudden revolt. Among them, she saw Boba Fett's retreating form as he headed for the stairs-likely headed outside to try and stop Luke; but at least he'd not be here to interfere.

Leia turned back to the window, saw Chewbacca was now free and was helping fight off the guards; blasts from the Sail Barge were rocking the skiff, and—wait, where was Luke? Had he fallen?

Tensing, Leia glanced back at Jabba; he'd dropped the chain and was shouting at Bib to do something. Taking the opportunity, she jumped off the throne and ran to the window, squinting her eyes in the bright light that hit her; Luke had somehow managed to leap onto another skiff and was fighting off the guards there-and just then, Boba Fett landed behind him.

_Leia, __now!_ Luke's voice yelled in her mind, and old instincts kicking in, she turned back to the Sail Barge interior, once again torn with what she even _could_ do.

She grabbed at her chain and sighed harshly; how would she be able to escape? Even if she were to try and join this insane rescue attempt, if she had somehow figured something out, there were guards everywhere—and preoccupied as they were, there were too many present. Someone would try to stop her if they saw her. Setting her jaw, she looked down at the chain and the decorative gold bands that pathetically covered her heaving chest, glittering in the sunslight—

_They'll try to stop me if they __see__ me_, Leia thought, her thudding heart kick up a beat higher. She glanced up at Jabba's throne-and suddenly knew exactly what to do.

Leia found herself retracing her own steps from earlier as she jumped up on the throne before the Hutt, rising directly in front of his bloated form once again—but he paid no attention to her, his huge head twisted to shout at a nearby guard, his chubby arms jiggling as they thrashed about. Leia looked frantically for some kind of hard object, something big and heavy and—

_Her eyes widened, and she leapt into action._

She ran up beside Jabba, who barely noticed as he hollered, sending thick wet gobs of slime splattering on the guards and his throne as he demanded an end to the coup.

She paused, realizing for a sick moment that she had to press herself against the Hutt in order to grab the microphone, which had fallen down beside him. But then she shrugged it off and assumed a haphazard slave's embrace, leaning down beside the Hutt's chunky arm to grab the cable from where it had fallen, then pushed herself back, pulling the slimy microphone out from beside his arm and twisting to the control panel. She lifted the microphone and swung it down through the air with a grunt and slammed it down on the throne's control panel with an electronic crash.

Now Jabba turned to her, still shouting, but before he could do anything, Leia smashed the microphone down on the controls again and again, sending up a shower of sparks, startling the Hutt—and then the lights all went out, throwing the Sail Barge into sudden near-darkness. In a heartbeat of frenzied cries and screams around her, Leia heard her chain jingle—and then knew _exactly_ what she had to do.

Dropping the microphone, Leia pushed herself away from Jabba without interference. Stepping to the base of his tail, she planted her hands on its huge, heavily-muscled base and swung her lower body over it with a grunt, landing behind the confused, furious Hutt and rising to her feet. She groped at her chain's slack where it had trailed over the Hutt's tail, and hefting the heavy links, she hurled it up in the air over his head, then quickly tugged it back in. The remaining length of chain drew quickly up from where it connected to his throne—a perfect base to hold it nice and tight.

_Planting her booted feet_ firmly beneath her, Leia gave a hard pull on the chain. Jabba's cry became a choked gurgle as she tugged again, harder, pulling it tightly against his wide, flabby throat. The Hutt leaned forward, gagging, and although Leia was rocked forward with him, she reached up and grabbed the chain closer to where it was wrapped around his fat throat, then pulled even harder.

Although she was much smaller than him, right then, she felt bigger—as big as a moon, a planet. She yanked even harder, choking him.

She thought of everything she'd gone through in the past couple of days, of all the terrible things he'd made her do, of all the humiliation, all the demoralization, all the disgust, all the pain and fear. The Hutt truly _had_ begun to overpower her, worming and working his slimy way past her will—and had begun to break her from the inside out.

She knew it would be a long, long road to recovering from that—from all that he had awoken in her. But she would be able to handle all that, now. She had a second chance. She still had her old life. She was breaking the bond that Jabba had forced into her—and the control he had over her. She was setting herself free.

Setting her jaw, she gave the chain another hard tug. It had begun to dig between the doughy rolls massed beneath Jabba's chins, and his chubby arms, tongue, and tail thrashed pathetically about as she choked him. She could sense his struggle was almost over—but now was _not _the time to stop. Leia yanked harder and harder on the chain, choking him with all her might.

Jabba's phlegmy nostrils snarked, splurting out thick gobs of mucus, and his tongue thrashed wildly about, flinging droplets of slime everywhere. Cringing, Leia leaned forward, spreading her bare legs and ramming her pelvis up against the Hutt's back as she leaned over, grabbing the chain directly beside his neck as he took a final, gagging attempt at a breath.

Leia threw her entire body back, tossing her head back, a heavy roar escaping her gritted teeth as she delivered a final, powerful _yank _on her master's chain_—_and the Hutt died with a long, drawn-out series of gurgling gags and sighs.

Leia out a heavy sigh and jumped off his throne, the chain jingling noisily. _I am not a slave. Not anymore._


End file.
